


A Victor's Ally (The 73rd Hunger Games)

by aprilrain08



Series: A Victor's Ally [1]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: 73rd Hunger Games, 74th Hunger Games, Action/Adventure, Drama & Romance, F/M, Hunger Games-Typical Death/Violence, Mentors, Mutual Pining, Original Character(s), POV Original Character, Post-Games (Hunger Games), Pre-Hunger Games, Teen Angst, my original characters are cinnamon rolls i love them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:21:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 56,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21989428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aprilrain08/pseuds/aprilrain08
Summary: Juliet Breyer, a seventeen-year-old living in District 9, thought it was hard enough watching her best friend Luke compete in the 72nd Hunger Games. When he won, she thought everything would finally go back to normal. Now it's time for the 73rd Hunger Games, and her life takes another turn when she gets reaped. Is having Luke as her mentor enough to secure another victory for District 9?~ Pre - The Hunger Games Trilogy through the 74th Hunger Games ~
Relationships: Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark, Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Series: A Victor's Ally [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1598356
Comments: 10
Kudos: 28





	1. one

My laugh echoed in the empty forest as I swung from one tree branch to another, risking a glance behind me to see my pursuer. Reaching the end of another line of trees, I used my momentum to propel my body up and around the tree branch, doing a complete circle before I finally let go. As I soared through the air, I contorted my body into a flip before I reached the ground and landed on my feet, arms out for balance. I straightened my body, looking out across the golden fields in front of me as I stood at the edge of the tree line. I breathed in deeply, only to be knocked down onto the grass by a heavy force.

“Luke,” I let out a laugh, my voice muffled by the ground, “What in Panem was that for?” In an attempted to push him off of me, I wiggled my body and pushed my hands against his chest to no avail. His muscular body leaned heavily on mine, making it harder to breathe.

“You’re getting my clothes dirty.” I whined, letting my body go still. His chest vibrated against mine in a rumbling laughter, and although I couldn’t see his face, I could imagine his sneaky grin.

“Since when have you ever been worried about how your clothes look? Or your hair, for that matter?” Luke propped himself up on his elbows, an impish grin plastered on his face. My smile matched his as I gazed up at him, looking into his hazel eyes that I was so jealous of when we were younger. The eyes of my best friend used to be so clear, almost always containing a glint that let you know he was up to something. Now, his entire face was guarded, as if he would never fully escape the arena he had recently left.

There was no doubt in my mind that he would never forget the 72nd Hunger Games, or forget the new problems he has to face with the Capital. You would think that after being crowned victor, the problems would end. Instead, he was constantly being whisked away by the Capital for reasons I couldn’t understand. Today was one of those days, since he would have to serve as the District 9 mentor for whoever was reaped.

I knew better then to bring up the subject of his victory. It would only bring back unwanted memories of the arena, for both Luke and for myself. While Luke was in the arena, I was stuck in District 9, watching as my best friend fought for his life against 23 others. During the finale, Luke watched as the psychotic girl from District 1 picked off the remaining members of his alliance, leaving them to face off as the final two. In the end he managed to knock her off the side of the cliff, but not before she delivered a nasty cut down his arm, leaving a permanent scar that even the Capital couldn’t fix.

Once he returned, he was never the same. For the first few weeks he refused to see anyone, and it wasn’t until after his victory tour that we were able to rekindle our friendship. Even then, it was different. His whole demeanor had changed from the fun-loving boy I used to know, to a careful, guarded man. 

My eyes fixated on the long, jagged scar that ran down his forearm. Avoiding his eyes, I traced my forefinger lightly down it. Luke inhaled sharply, his body going rigid and quickly rolling off of mine. I sat up and avoided his stare to save myself from future embarrassment. We were both on edge today, and my mood instantly dampened once I realized why.

“The reaping is today,” I stated glumly, my eyes downcast. “I still have two years left, Luke. You know how many times my name is in the bowl. What if-” The words caught in my throat and my hands shook slightly as I thought of the possibilities. District 9 wasn’t exactly the largest district, and I knew the odds were not in my favor. 

Luke remained silent, his body stretched out next to mine as we looked up at the blue sky. The sun beat down on us, almost as if it was teasing us. Such a nice day, but such a horrible event was taking place. How ironic.

“We should go, Jules. We can’t be late for the reaping.” Luke voiced my own thoughts, standing up and offering me a hand.

I sighed as I ran my hand through my knotty ponytail, knowing that I would have a hard time making myself look nice. I punched his arm lightly, and took off through the woods, racing him back toward the town.

\--

I have always been ‘one of the guys’ for as long as I can remember. So, given that, you can imagine how horrible it was for me to be standing in front of the mirror in a light pink dress with a matching ribbon in my hair.

“Juliet, you look so nice!” My thirteen-year-old sister shrieked as she finished tying the ribbon into a perfect bow at the end of my braid. Kit turned me around, and I came face to face with her big, innocent blue eyes. She seemed as if she was not the slightest bit worried for the reaping, but she was just a much better actress than me. Unlike Kit, my name would be in that bowl countless times. Being seventeen, my chance was already high, and I had taken on as much tesserae as I could so she wouldn’t have to. 

“Is this really necessary?” I grumbled, giving Kit a pleading look. At least I had managed to dissuade Kit from leaving my hair down in curls. I fingered the intricate braid that ran down my shoulder, slightly in awe at Kit’s skill. 

“Luke will love you in this!” She squealed, avoiding my question. I rolled my eyes in exasperation. I had explained to her countless times that Luke and I were best friends and that we didn’t think about each other in that way, but she was a romantic at heart.

She sighed at my sour expression. “Just because you act like a boy doesn’t mean you can’t date one.” She shook her head in mock disappointment before pushing me out the door of our shared bedroom.

I took Kit by the hand and we made our way to the town center where the reaping was held. After going through the standard procedure, I made my way to the seventeen-year-old section, pausing for a moment to give Kit one last reassuring hug. 

“We’ll be okay.” I mumbled against her hair as I held her close, more for me then for her. She pulled away with a smile and walked off to meet her friends. I took a deep breath before entering my section, pushing past a group of weeping girls. Judging by their fancy dresses and perfect makeup, I assumed they belonged to the richer part of the district. They obviously didn’t have to worry about tesserae increasing their chances. I scoffed.

Girls. This was why I didn’t get along with them.

I turned my attention to our escort who was taking the stage. Luke was seated toward the back of the stage, a stone-cold expression on his face. His sharp hazel eyes were focused on the escort, but I could tell he wasn’t really listening. Next to him sat an older man, Barrick, obviously drunk. His head lolled to the side and he looked sloppy, as if he had just woken up. Barrick had won the 53rd Hunger Games at the ages of 18, and shortly after, like a lot of victors, resorted to alcohol to solve his problems. The most recent victor besides Luke had been Amira, but she was killed almost years ago. I was too young at the time to remember exactly what had happened, but I wasn’t sure if anyone really knew.

Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I once again averted my attention to our escort, Hilda. Decked out in orange head to toe, she looked like a carrot. I grinned at the thought, but it shortly disappeared when I realized I had missed the entire introduction to the reaping.  
Someone was about to get picked. I just hoped it wasn’t Kit. Or me.

“How about ladies first!” Hilda giggled, reaching her fingers into the clear bowl. Her long fingernails wiggled in the glass before plucking a single white paper. My gaze settled on Luke’s rigid stature. His hands gripped the underside of his chair so hard that his knuckles turned white. His stare looked cloudy and unfocused, and I felt a pang of pity for him. It would be his first year as a mentor, and considering Hutch was incapable of doing anymore then drinking his way through the games, he was basically alone. 

“Juliet Breyer!”

It took a moment to register before I finally processed the name that was called. 

“Is there a Juliet Breyer in the audience?” Hilda cleared her throat, looking around as if expecting someone to hold up a sign, pointing to the next victim of the Hunger Games.  
I heard a sob coming from the thirteen-year-old section, and I vaguely recognized Kit’s high-pitched wail. Seemingly in a daze, I took a few hesitant steps toward the stage, only to be roughly grabbed by a peacekeeper who hurried my approach. I winced, knowing that would leave a bruise. The pain shocked me out of my dream-like state, and I thrashed, attempting to shake the peacekeeper off of me. Kit’s sobs pierced through the quiet air, each one louder than the first.

I managed to catch my balance after being roughly pushed onto the stage. I desperately tried to catch Luke’s gaze, but his face was turned away from me, unusually pale compared to his normal tan complexion. Swallowing deeply, I answered Hilda’s question, confirming my name and age. My voice sounded detached, as if it belonged to someone else.

Hilda gave me a smile, unfazed by my inability to form more than a few coherent sentences.  
“Now onto the men! Who will be the lovely man representing District 9 in the 73rd Hunger Games?” I spent the next few seconds frantically searching the crowd for Kit, although I was exactly sure I wanted to see her in such a state.

“Atlas Lennox!” Our escort’s voice rang through the silence, welcoming a tall, broad shouldered boy up to the stage. I recognized him from school, but I had never held a conversation with him. He would have seemed like a normal kid, except for the creepy smirk making its way onto his face, like he was enjoying this. His blond hair was almost white, and his grey eyes didn’t hold the same shine that Luke’s had. Instead, they held something that caused a shiver to go up my spine.

I reluctantly shook hands with him, feeling his cold, stiff hands against my sweating ones. 

Well, this sucked.


	2. two

“We love you so much, and we know you’ll do us proud, no matter what happens.” My mom embraced me in a hug, my dad following close behind. I had never been particularly close with my parents, but I still loved them. I respected them for taking care of us when times were hard. They deserved to live a better life, but they had always put us first.

“Take care of Kit for me, please. And don’t let her watch if…” I couldn’t finish my sentence. I didn’t want my baby sister watching some psycho Career chop my head off during the Bloodbath. My parents simply nodded, too emotional to respond. 

I pulled them in for one last hug, thanking them for everything they had done. We said our goodbyes before the Peacekeepers pulled them away.

Kit came running in next, throwing her arms around me, her blond curls flying into my face. “This is my entire fault, Juliet. I shouldn’t have let you take all that tesserae for me.” Her face was red and scrunched up, making me feel guilty for leaving her. Not that it was my fault, but still.

“No, it’s not. You’re not allowed to blame yourself, Kit. I need you to stay strong for me. Do you think you can do that?” Kit nodded in response, wiping away a few stray tears from her cheeks. Reaching behind her neck, she unclasped the locket that she always wore and placed it in my hand.

Fresh tears forming in my eye. Kit had been saving up money for as long as I could remember and was finally able to buy the necklace earlier this year. Since then, she never took it off. I didn’t even both to argue, I just slid the locket around my neck, knowing it would be the perfect token. I pulled her into a hug for the rest of our time, wordlessly communicating what couldn’t be said.

\--

I entered the train Hilda prodding me along. “Come along now dearies, there’s so much we need to go over before we get to the Capital.” She babbled aimlessly about things like the Capital fashions, food, and interests. 

I snorted in disbelief. Why in the world should I care about what this season’s popular color is? Our time spent at the Capital is basically fattening us up and preparing us to be slaughtered. Luke managed to physically make it out alive, but he would be trapped inside his mind for the rest of his life. I would try to do the same, but I wasn’t sure if it was even worth it.

Barrick came through the fancy sliding train door with a drink in his hand, sloshing around and ruining the luxurious carpet. I pretended not to notice, but in my mind, I made a mental note not to bother trying to get advice from him. Almost all of the older victors had resorted to some type of alcohol or drug to get through the years, and Barrick definitely wasn’t an exception.

“Nice of you to finally show up,” Hilda sneered at Barrick. My eyebrows rose immediately. Maybe I had judged Hilda too soon; she obviously had some sass in her. “Where’s my precious Lukey?”

Nevermind.

Luke followed Barrick through the door, looking as if he was ready to throw up. 

“Lukey,” Hilda’s voice was sweet, but suddenly turned sour when she mentioned the older victor’s name, “Barrick, meet this year’s tributes from District 9. Juliet Breyer and Atlas Lennox.”

Barrick seemed taken aback by Atlas’ bulkiness. He knew as well as I did that he was definitely a real contender. The drunk then moved onto me and looked me up and down, giving me a drunken nod of approval. 

“Don’t get your hopes up, kids. They won’t let District 9 win two years in a row.” He took another swig of his drink, earning a scolding from Hilda, but neither our escort nor Luke made any move to contradict that statement.

“I’ll leave you dearies alone with your mentors now. Barrick, play nice.” Hilda took her leave, adjusting her puffy, pale orange hair on the way out. As soon as she was out of sight and the sliding door between the train cars had shut, Barrick pushed past us, heading to the opposite end of the train. 

I looked to Luke for an indication of what we should do next, but he once again avoided my eyes, looking away from me and out the window. After a moment of awkward silence, I huffed and exited the train car, wishing I had a door to slam to express my anger. It took me a few minutes before I was able to find my room on the train, marked by a door that read “D9F”, which I assumed stood for District 9 Female. I yanked open the door, taken aback by the intricate decorating. I flopped down face first onto the lilac sheets, relieved to have time to myself.

What was Luke’s problem? I knew that he would have a hard time being a mentor, but you’d think he would suck it up long enough to keep his best friend alive. He hadn’t spoken a word to me since I was reaped, and although it had barely been an hour, he wasn’t even acting as a mentor, let alone a best friend. He didn’t even acknowledge that he knew me before the reaping, but that was expected. When he came back from the Capital, he wouldn’t be seen with me in public anymore. We always hung out far off in the fields or the forest, away from the town and prying eyes. 

The door slowly slid open, and I squeezed my eyes shut tight, conflicted about whether I wished it was Luke or not. I opened my eyes, surprised to see that the person who entered was not Luke, but Atlas.

“What are you doing here?” I asked in surprise, pulling myself off the bed. I stood in front of him, slightly intimidated by his giant frame. I might not be weak, but I was definitely lacking in the height department. 

He took a step closer, the same creepy smirk displayed on his face. “I was thinking that we could-”

“If you’re going to ask about an alliance, then I don’t have an answer for you yet. We haven’t discussed strategy with our mentors yet.” I cut him off and shuffled backwards, not liking the closeness.

Atlas let out a hollow laugh, taking yet another step closer. “Come on, Julesy. You know our mentors aren’t going to do shit for us. Barrick is a drunk, and Luke is a big joke. And I wasn’t talking about an alliance.”

“How exactly is he a joke?” I questioned, choosing to ignore the stupid nickname he gave me. I crossed my arms and gave him what I hoped was an intimidating glare. 

“Please, he won out of pure luck. Me, on the other hand, well I’m different.” He inched forward, the sleazy grin growing on his face. “I plan to hunt every single one of these kids down, one by one. Yourself included.” He spoke lowly, taking another step forward.

I took a final step backwards, only to be met by the wall. Atlas pressed me fully against the wall, his hands on either side of my shoulders. I turned my head to the side, avoiding his eyes. Normally I’d knee him in the balls, but he was really creeping me out and I wasn’t sure if that would be a good idea. 

“It’s a shame, really. We could have some fun.” He leaned in closer, his hot breath on my face making me shiver. “You’re pretty hot. But you won’t be after I put a knife in your throat.”

A noise came from the doorway, and I looked past Atlas to find Luke, his body looking big and awkward in comparison to the smaller size of the door frame. 

“What’s going on here?” His eyes narrowed and his voice came out harsher than usual. 

Atlas stepped away from me with his hands up, the sadistic smile never leaving his face. “We were just discussing strategy.” He winked at me, and I glowered in response.

“Get out of here, Lennox. Hilda is looking for you.” Luke stepped into the room, his hands balled tightly at his sides. The room I thought was so large at first suddenly seemed a lot smaller.

“Right. You’re the boss, bro.” Atlas passed Luke on the way out, purposefully knocking shoulders with him a bit harder than necessary. The tension between Atlas and Luke was clear, probably having to do with the fact that Luke had won last year at the age of seventeen, making them the same age. Or, because Atlas was just psychotic.

A moment of silent passed before I finally moved from my position against the wall to the more comfortable bed, causing a wrinkle in the silky sheets.

“I can handle myself, you know. I didn’t need your help.

Luke let out a humorless laugh, knowing as well as I do that my words were indeed true. Since we were younger, I had quite a reputation for roughing up some of the tougher boys our age. He stayed at his place by the entry way, shuffling his body so he leaned against the side of the doorframe. The messy-haired boy made no move to speak, which only added fuel to my fire.

“What do you have to say for yourself, huh?” I stood up suddenly, my body tense. “You ignored me on the train and at the Reaping- which, by the way, would have been nice if you came to see me after, considering it was the one time I needed you the most.” Luke opened his mouth to speak, but I held up my hand.

“I’m not done. You come waltzing in here, acting like you’re some sort of hero, and then just stand there as if you’re waiting for me to bow down to you. Well sorry victor, but it’s not happening.” I crossed my arms, slightly out of breath from my mini-rant.

Luke glared back at me, put-off by my reaction. “You think this is easy for me? I went through hell in that arena, and there is absolutely no one I can talk to about it. My parents have become terrified of the fame, my brother seems scared of me, and you just…wouldn’t understand.” He ran his hand through his dark hair, and I noticed that he was wearing it longer than he used to.

“And now, now that you’re a tribute, I feel useless, despite however much power everyone seems to think I have. I couldn’t stop you from being reaped, and there’s nothing I can say or do that will make much difference in the arena.”

I stood as still as a statue for a moment, my jaw set and hands curled into fists at my side. 

“You don’t think I can win.” I said in a quiet voice, directing all of my anger at the boy in front of me. Luke stayed quiet, holding my gaze.

“You don’t think I can win, do you?” I stressed, stepping close to him and planting a finger on his chest. He tensed for a moment, and although he had almost a foot on my height wise, he seemed scared of me.

He let out a loud sigh and finally entered the room, running his hand through his hair again. “No Jules, that’s not what I meant.” His voice changed from angry to tired, almost broken. 

“Then what did you mean?” I wasn’t about to let him off the hook that easy. “Look, you know just as well as everyone else on this train that I have very little chance of coming out of this alive. The least you can do is act like my mentor, let alone my best friend, and support me.” 

Luke’s heavy footsteps seemed magnified in the small room- he never was very graceful- as he trudged over to me and placed both hands on the sides of my shoulders. “Listen to me.”

“No, you listen to me!” I stomped my foot.

“Juliet. Listen to me.”

I finally quieted down. Luke rarely used my full name, and that alone made me shut my mouth.

“I know I’ve been ignoring you, but it’s for your own good.” Luke glanced from left to right and lowered his voice an octave, as if someone was eavesdropping. “If they find out that I have any attachments to you what so ever, they’ll use you against me.”

“For what?” I questioned loudly, earning a ‘shh’ from Luke. My curiosity got the best of me, and I waited patiently for him to continue.

“The arena is dangerous enough, but you’re also at the mercy of the Game makers, and they would sick some mutt on you in a heartbeat if I refused to comply to their demands.”

“What demands?” I asked quietly, no longer mad. After all, he was just looking out for me.

His eyes turned cold again and he stepped away from me, putting on an indifferent facial expression to hide the broken one I saw a minute ago. “Don’t worry about it. All you need to know is that I am doing everything I can for you, even if it seems like I’m not.”

Luke headed for door, pausing once to turn back around. “Look, I’m sorry okay? Stay away from Atlas, also. I have a bad feeling about him.” His voice softened a bit and he exited the room, but not before I saw a mix of worry, fear, and desperation in his eyes.

Maybe this whole situation would be better if I hadn’t ever met Luke before. Going in the arena, I could almost handle that. But I knew from experience that it would tear him up on the inside to watch his childhood friend kill or be killed. And knowing that I would be hurting him regardless of the outcome, well, that hurt me too.


	3. three

The roar of the crowd was deafening as we stepped out of the train. I was surprised that people even bothered to cheer for us, but then I realized that most of it was probably for Luke. I'm sure they would cheer just as loud while watching our gruesome deaths on national television.

Someone pushed me forward and I was suddenly aware of how I must appear to the Capitolites: wide eyed and open mouthed, staring at the crowd in surprise. Luke watched me with a grim smile, finding some humor in my dumbfounded appearance.

Pulling myself together, I started forward, waving to colorful citizens of Panem. I had no idea what my strategy would be yet, but I knew that appealing to the crowd was important, so I plastered a smile on my face. After what seemed like an impossibly long walk, we finally arrived at the Training Center.

"First things first: We need to get you prepared for the Tribute Parade! I'd like you to meet your stylists Saffra and Nimmo!" Hilda stepped back from a doorway I hadn't noticed, revealing a man and a woman.

The woman had long, straight, white hair that reached her lower back. I could tell by the wrinkles on her face that she had been doing this a long time, longer then the man beside her. Saffra made her way over to Luke, her long hair swishing behind her and her tall heels echoing against the metal floor.

Luke enveloped her in a tight hug, and it was the first time in a while that I had seen a genuine smile make its way onto his face. While the previous victor and his former stylist caught up, I turned my attention to the second stylist, Nimmo. Both his teeth and hair were glowed bright white, making me blink harshly as he stepped toward me with an excited smile.

"I'll be your stylist for this year's games, darling." His voice was sickly sweet and he bounced up and down, buzzing with energy. "We're going to need a lot of time to work on you, so I suggest we get started right away." His bony fingers reach out and grab mine, ushering me through the door before I have a chance to say anything else.

It wasn't until after my body had been stripped of hair that I realized how painful this whole experience of being a tribute would be. My body felt as if it was on fire, and this was only the beginning, a preparation so I would look nice when I entered the Games.

"Is this really necessary?" I snapped at the lady closest to me who was attempting to pluck my eyebrows. She shrank back in alarm, her unnatural purple eyes going wide.

"Now, now, Juliet. Is that anyway to treat these poor ladies?" Nimmo came up behind the chair I was sitting in, resting his cold hand on my shoulder. I resisted the urge to flinch away from his touch, knowing I would need his help to attract sponsors.

He stood me up on an elevated portion of the floor, circling me with a scrutinizing glare. "You seem very athletic, not uncommon, I suppose. But considering your small size, it's a wonder how you're so muscular."

"I'm a gymnast." I sassed back, not liking his degrading tone. "And I could snap your skinny neck in half if I wanted to." The words came out of my mouth before I could stop them. I actually had no idea where all this spunk was coming from; I wasn't usually this outspoken. I guess I had reached my breaking point, and I was only just getting started.

Unfortunately for me, a small smile appeared on his unusually pale face, as if he knew something I didn't. "You'll make a great tribute, really."  
In the second it took me to open my mouth and form a reply, he was already out the door, leaving me alone with the small group of overly perfumed women.

\--

"It's really not that funny, Luke." I whined, putting my head in my hands. Or, I tried to. The thick stalks of wheat sticking out from my hair made it pretty hard.

"Actually, it is. I mean, have you seen yourself in the mirror?" His voice held a great amount of humor, as if he was containing himself from obnoxious laughter.

"I'm literally wheat, Luke. You think he would have at least tried to be a little more creative." I said, exasperation clear in my voice. It didn't seem fair that Atlas had gotten the good stylist, Saffra. The one who had somehow put Luke in a better mood. The one who seemed to make him forget that I was going to die soon. And the one who had him laughing at me as if this wasn't a life or death situation. Which it totally was. How could the sponsors take me seriously?

I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest. After another look in the mirror, I knew I didn’t look that bad. My golden dress was tight enough to show off my figure, and even my skin seemed to be glowing. The problem was the giant headband perched on my head, making it hard for me to stand up straight under the weight. Stalks of wheat stuck out of my hair from every direction, making it hard for anyone to get close to me without being poked. 

Luke rolled his eyes. "Come on, Jules. The stylists are here to help you. You might think you look ridiculous, but I’m sure the capitol will love it. Besides, you look really nice.”

“You think so?” I asked quietly, tugging self-consciously at the tight dress. I rarely dressed up back home – there was no reason to. I was constantly running around, so I always preferred more comfortable clothing. I never cared much about my looks, but now I had to play the Capitol’s game.

Luke smiled, but his eyes were sad as he nodded. I stared back, confused by his expression. He cleared his throat, changing the topic as he usually did whenever he was uncomfortable.

“Just make sure you interact with the crowd. You don’t look intimidating enough to do the strong and silent thing.”

I scoffed, feigning offense at his statement.

The corners of his lips curved up in a half smile. “I know that you could kick my ass, but they don’t. Save it for the arena.”

Our conversation was cut short when Atlas walked up next to the District 9 chariot.

"You ready, Julsey? Looking mighty fine, I must say." His sadistic smile was once again present, earning a scowl from me.

"Stop calling me that." My eyes narrowed and I felt Luke tense beside me. The fiery gaze held between the two 18-year-olds was enough to make me want to take a step back. "Let's just get this over with." I sneered, pulling Atlas up on the chariot alongside me. I stood up straight and watched as the other tributes began climbing onto their chariots, making me feel small in comparison.

The anthem started playing and District One's chariot made its way through the massive double doors. I could already hear the deafening roar of the crowd, which was slightly intimidating.

It wasn't long before the District Eight's chariot was no longer in front of us and ours began to move forward. My grip on the side of the chariot tightened considerably and my stomach was doing flips, but I plastered a smile on my face. I was taken aback by the sheer amount of people who sat in the stands surrounding the chariot, all of which were looking at me. 

I had expected a few laughs from the crowd and a snicker from Atlas directed toward my costume. But what I wasn't expecting was for the crowd to break out into loud cheers. Whether it was for me or Atlas, I wasn’t sure, but I waved and blew kisses anyway. Right when my initial shock finally began to fade, I felt a muscular arm snake around my waist, pulling me closer. My wide smile faltered slightly, but I couldn't exactly push Atlas away with so many people watching.

"Hands off, Atlas." I hissed through my teeth, causing his smile to grow wider. He knew there was nothing I could do about it. I continued to wave at the crowd, subtly tilting my head to the side and raking a particularly long grain stalk from my headpiece down his cheek. He grunted and slightly loosened his grip. I stood up straighter, feeling satisfied, with myself, but instead of pulling away like I imagined his grip suddenly became tighter, his fingers digging into the side of my hip. I winced, knowing it would leave a bruise, but figured that I would be dealing with much worse in the arena, anyway.

After what seemed like an eternity we pulled back into the area we started from, where stylists, mentors, and escorts rushed up to greet their tributes. 

"What is wrong with you!?" I screeched as soon as the doors had shut behind us. I scrambled of the chariot and turned to Atlas, fuming. "You made me look like an idiot!"

Atlas laughed, a smug grin never leaving his face. "I was only helping you. Besides, it’s all in good fun.”

Hilda placed her dainty hand on his forearm, her expression stern. "I'd rather you not do anything we haven't discussed, Atlas dear."  
I failed to hear the rest of the conversation because I was being dragged away by Luke, up a small slight of stairs and into a wide elevator.

"I can't believe him. I really can't." Luke rubbed his temples, indicating he had a massive headache. "I don't understand what the Capitol finds so charming about him."  
My eyes had surely bugged out of my head at that statement. "They like him?"

Luke frowned. "I guess. They're comparing him to me, but I'm nothing like him." He spat, obviously displeased.

"I know." I assured him. 

“It seemed like they liked you too, you know. I told you that you looked nice.” That sad look entered his expression again, and I wasn’t quite sure how to respond.

The rest of the elevator ride was silent. When we arrived at the 9th floor, I was the first to step off, eager to change out of my uncomfortable clothing. I turned, realizing Luke was still lingering in the doorway. 

“I have something I need to do.” He pointed to the left. “Kitchen is that way, if you want to eat. And I suggest you do."

I shook my head. "I'm not hungry." I sounded like a stubborn child, but Luke just sighed and turned back toward the elevator. I stared at the closing doors for a minute, wondering where he could possibly be going.

Walking back to my room, I plopped down on the plush bed. It was exhausting, being a tribute. I had to worry about my looks, the way I acted, my skills, sponsors, and not to mention fighting 23 other tributes. Quickly peeling off my parade costume and throwing on whatever had been laid out for me, I climbed under the covers and drifted off into an uneasy sleep.


	4. four

Waking up was near impossible. It’s not because I wasn’t a morning person - which I’m not, by the way - but because I had woken up multiple times during the night, each time harder to fall back to sleep than the previous.

“Get up! It’s almost nine o’clock! Are you trying to get me fired?” Hilda tore the blankets away from my body, ushering me up out of bed and into the shower.

The shower was a whole other story in itself - a mass of buttons and handles that I didn’t even attempt to use. Once I had exited the bathroom, I was practically shoved into my training suit, a tight, flexible number made for vigorous training.

I studied myself in the mirror, scrutinizing my body. The skin-tight material showed off my athletic body, something I normally would have hated. Most of the girls in my district were tall and thin, only some with strong arms that worked in the fields. Perhaps, instead of being weak and easily breakable, I would be taken as a serious contender. I didn’t want to be dismissed as a bloodbath tribute.

I wouldn’t go down that easy.

My thoughts were interrupted by Hilda’s noisy chatter, which lasted the entire way to the training room. I barely had time to grab breakfast on my way out. The small loaf of bread I held in my hand reminded me of home, and I felt a sharp pang in my chest. I paused briefly to wonder where Atlas was, but I figured he was already down there.

The room was pretty similar to how I imagined it: wide, open, and filled to the brim with obstacle courses, weaponry, and survival stations. The career pack was already in the center of the room, looking intimidating with the giant number ones, twos, and fours labeled on the back of their body suits. I spotted the District Seven and Eleven tributes, my gaze lingering a bit longer on the muscular eighteen-year-old from Seven. Something in his gaze reminded me of Atlas, as if he had his sight set on a prize, and would get it no matter what the cost. That thought alone was enough for me to turn away, taking in the remaining tributes.

My eyes landed on Atlas, studying the other tributes as well from across the room. I followed his sights toward the lanky tributes from district five. They were some of the younger tributes, and I was sick to my stomach when I realized Atlas was looking at them as if they were his prey. I decided I would wait until lunch to analyze the other tributes, since it was only making the feeling of dread grow stronger.

I tuned out the instructor who was explaining the stations, which probably wasn’t a wise idea. I looked around at the weapons, deciding which I would be best with. The axe caught my eye, but I didn’t have the willpower to pull it off. I would leave that to District Seven. It seemed almost inhuman, chopping a human like you would a tree, but I supposed all weapons would end up with the same result.

I tried my hand at throwing knives a few times before when Luke would teach me fighting skills out in the fields, but most of it was just joking around. Still, it was something I was familiar with. I wasn’t weak, but my small stature wouldn’t do much against the larger tributes in hand to hand combat. Throwing knives were long range weapons, which would be the best option.

Neither Luke nor Barrick had bothered to discuss strategy with me, so I was left to my own judgment. I liked to consider myself a gymnast, as I always had a knack for contorting my body in weird ways. There was a smattering of trees that lined the grain fields near my house, and I loved to swing around the sorry excuse of a forest. I decided to avoid the obstacle courses for the moment, seeing as it probably wouldn’t be too wise to show my strengths right away.

After a few tries with the throwing knives, I learned that I wasn’t terrible with them. Not career material, but definitely not nearly as bad as the poor boy from District 6.

Out of the corner of my eye I noticed the District 10 tributes in deep conversation, sending pointed looks my way. I shifted my body in order to view the tributes better, trying to pretend like I wasn’t paying attention to them. The boy, around 17, had his hand placed on his district partner’s back, who looked to be no older than 16. They both shared similar hair color, a fair, light brown, but strikingly different faces. While the female had rosy, full cheeks and plump lips, the older boy had a tight smile and a thinner face. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, causing her to nod vigorously. I made eye contact with the male and he turned away abruptly, but not before his eyes flashed with something I couldn’t quite catch.

I placed the knives back where I found them. The exchange between me and the District 10 tributes had shaken me up a bit, and I figured it was time to try my hand at survival stations. As much as my pride didn’t want others to view me as a bloodbath, I definitely didn’t want to put a target on my back either.

Lunch was eventually called, and I dusted off my hands, sore from working with ropes in the snare station.

I sat by myself in the cafeteria, while most of the other tributes sat with their district partners. I wasn’t sure where Atlas had gone off to, but I was relieved that he wasn’t around. It was too early in the week to be forming alliances, so the only real group was the Career pack. I spotted the District 10 tributes huddled together again, whispering about who knows what.

“Hello.” A loud voice pulled me out of my thoughts, accompanied with the clamor of a food tray hitting the table. A small, tan girl with long, unruly golden hair - not unlike my sister, Kit’s - looked up at me with wide brown eyes. She appeared no older than thirteen, but her spunky attitude caught my attention.

“Oh, um, hello.” My voice came out small in comparison to the fierce little girl sitting across from me.

“I’m sorry, I just can’t stand my district partner.” She glanced over her shoulder at a tall, lanky male with glasses and arms that looked skinny enough to snap like a twig. “He won’t stop mumbling about the weirdest things. And my mentors expect me to ally with him. I’m Moe, District 3, by the way.” She viciously stabbed at her food with a fork, shaking her head at her own words.

“I know how that feels. Juliet, District 9.” I replied with a sigh, feeling weirdly comfortable with this Kit-lookalike. She and my sister were shockingly similar, from the hair and eyes down to the feisty personality.

The feisty blonde nodded once in recognition before digging into the plate sitting in front of her. We ate in silence, my eyes nervously skimming over the rest of the tributes while hers were kept on her food. Once she finished, Moe nodded again before standing up and bringing her plate up to the disposal area, ignoring the Avox that rushed over to help her.

I didn’t even realize I was finished eating until a small Avox with hair that seemed to blend in with her pale skin tone whisked away my plate.

I stood up and returned to the training room, preparing to finish out my day at the poisonous plant station.

\--

After dinner, Hilda led me to the plush couch sitting against a wall of windows. My gaze shifted over the view before me. Before I became a tribute, I would have gasped at the sight of the vast Capital stretching before me, but these days I wasn’t as easily impressed.

Luke took a seat on the couch beside me, giving me a small smile. I ignored it, choosing to place a hand on my forehead and complain of a headache instead. Hilda shook her head at me, mumbling something about lazy, improper tributes.

“Juliet, dear, we need to discuss your strategy.” The posh capital accent pierced my brain, making my headache worse.

“My strategy? I don’t need one,” I shrugged. “I’m pretty sure the only strategy that can help me is to try and stay alive.”

Luke scoffed, exchanging a look with Hilda. “Don’t be stupid Jules, you can’t just waltz into the arena without some sort of plan. And don’t forget the interview, we need to figure out your angle.”

Clapping her hands excitedly, Hilda leaned forward in her seat. “You could pull off seductive and desirable. The Capitol thinks you’re beautiful! You’ll get so many sponsors!”

“She’s not doing that.” Luke snapped at her, but Hilda was not dissuaded.

“How about ditzy blonde?” She suggested, bouncing in her seat.

“What? My hair is brown! And I’m not dying it.” I scowled at her, crossing my arms in an indignant manner.

“I’m thinking more along the lines of unpleasant, stubborn girl. So basically, just be yourself. The capital will love you.” Luke laughed, causing me to sink further into the couch with annoyance. His usual teasing tone seemed harsh in these circumstances. Did he not realize my life was on the line here?

His laughter subsided as Hilda chided him. Why couldn’t I just be myself? I wasn’t that bad!

“In all seriousness, Jules, you should act shy and impressed by the Capitol. Be sweet and compliment them to gain sponsors, but try not draw too much attention to yourself or put a target on your back. If the Careers dismiss you as a Bloodbath, they might forget about you and will be less likely to hunt you down.”

I stared at my hand in silence, taking in the first real advice that Luke had given me. I wasn’t about to let him off the hook so easily though, so I pushed myself off the couch, planning to head to my room.

“Nice to see you’re finally being serious about my life, Luke.” I spat before striding out of the sitting area and into my temporary bedroom.

I had no idea where the tension between Luke and I had come from. I couldn’t use the Hunger Games as an excuse forever, although it was a legitimate one. Lying face down on my pillow, I breathed deeply, almost choking at the overwhelming sense of lavender coating the pillow case. As my head cleared, I concluded that I needed to go easier on Luke. If I were in his position, I probably wouldn’t be too keen on giving him advice on how to stay alive. I probably would try to do anything not to think about him going in that arena.

Too late, though. I had already seen him endure the arena, and it wasn’t pleasant.

“Jules.” Luke cleared his throat as he entered into the room. I slowly lifted my head, acknowledging his presence, before resting it back onto the pillow.

“I hope you know that I’m serious about your survival. It’s just hard for me to handle going through this again, especially with your life on the line this time. The last thing I want to do is think about you going into that arena.”

I grunted into the pillow, finding it humorous that he had voiced my exact thoughts.

Luke continued, “Maybe it’s selfish of me, but I’d rather go through it again then watch you. Do you know how hard that will be for me?”

The bed creaked under my weight as I shifted into a sitting position to face Luke. “Yeah Luke, I actually do know how hard it is.” My voice cracked as I tried to maintain my irritable tone.

“Right. Um, sorry.” He looked at me with desperation and I couldn’t help but let out a small smile.

“Come here,” I opened my arms wide. “And stop standing in the doorway looking like a lost puppy. You’re starting to make me feel bad for you.”

His bulky form crawled onto the bed next to me, wrapping his arms around my smaller frame. Luke pulled me close, and for the first time, I felt like I was close to home. He smelled like District 9. The last time we were this close together was the day of the reaping, when we were messing around in the forest. It had barely been more than day, but it felt like a lifetime ago.

I closed my eyes, feeling like I might be able to sleep tonight. That is, until he scooted back off the bed, leaving me cold.

“Sorry, but I should go back. Wouldn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea.” He scratched awkwardly at the back of his neck, a confused and somber expression on his face.

“Right.” I murmured sleepily, his face the last thing I saw before I closed my eyes.


	5. five

_Thunk_. I grinned as another one of my knives hit the target board, producing a rewarding noise. My fingers automatically closed around the hilt of another knife, but let go once I recalled Luke’s advice from this morning.

“Don’t let them see which weapon you’re best with. Trust me, they will remember and won’t make it easy for you to get your hand on it.” He had said through a mouthful of bacon. I wasn’t about to ignore his wishes; I realized he was one hundred percent right. Besides, how was two days of practice going to help me? Most of the other tributes who were good with weapons had been training for years. I doubt I could reach their skill level that quickly.

Bending down at the plant station, I tried my hand at sorting berries based on their deathliness. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a flash of light brown hair slicked into a high pony tail. A girl was crouched next to me, sorting through her own pile of berries. At a quick glance I noticed how bad she was at identifying the berries. After taking a longer look, I realized it was because she wasn’t even paying attention to her work. She was too busy watching mine.

It was the girl from Ten.

“Alright, I want to know what kind of game you’re playing. Are you stalking me or something?” I hissed quietly at the girl, putting enough venom in my voice to show her I meant business, but quietly enough as to not alert the trainers.

She turned her quirky face toward me, her full lips twisting into a grin. I was sure I was going to punch her right there, but I contained myself.

“You know, you should really watch what you say to the other tributes. A little feistiness might get you into some trouble in the arena, am I right?” Her surprisingly quiet voice held a trace of humor, as if she thought it was enjoyable to see me get worked up.

She held up a hand, a sign to let her continue speaking.

“Before you get your panties in a twist, my district partner, Hank, and I are looking for an alliance. Your knife skills aren’t too bad, and you seem like you’ve got fire.” Her eyes flickered with enthusiasm. I could immediately tell that she was the more outspoken one of the two, while Hank was the quieter, more observant partner.

“Plus, Hank can tell there’s something you’re hiding. He says you keep looking over at the obstacle course.” She waves her hand dismissively, acting as if she doesn’t know what he was talking about. This confirmed my suspicions of Hank’s observation skills, and I looked over my shoulder to see him staring intently at the career pack before flicking his gaze over to the weaker tributes, paying equal attention to each tribute.

“Um, I…” My voice came out weak and surprised. I cleared my throat and prepared to give her my final answer, but she stood up quickly.

“Think about it.” She gave me a quick wink and sauntered back over to her partner, pulling him closer to her and whispering something into his ear. I openly stared at them, my mind turning.

As I continued my work at the survival stations, I thought about District 10’s offer of an alliance. What would Luke say? I found myself asking that a lot, recently. Would Luke tell me to form an alliance? Would he tell me to stay by myself and trust no one, or would he tell me to partner up with someone else?

Deciding something as basic as this should have been done earlier. Why do I have to wait until the last second to make these decisions by myself? I know it was Luke’s first year as a mentor, but he was doing worse than Barrick. At least Atlas seemed to have a solid plan, all thanks to Barrick. I could tell which District 9 tribute was preferred to win, and it definitely wasn’t me.

I would need someone in the arena to watch my back, no question about that. But who could I trust? District 10 seemed reliable and capable, but I wasn’t sure how legitimate their offer was.

The lunch bell rang, and I had made my decision.

I could feel Hank’s eyes following me as I entered the cafeteria. Evading the harsh glances of the Careers, I made my way over to the food, grabbing a tray and throwing a few things onto my plate. I passed Moe on my way to my seat, returning her tiny smile she offered as I walked by.

“I’m in.” I announced as I placed my tray next to my new alliance. Hank looked up at me with a knowing expression, as if he knew what I would say all along. Meanwhile, his district partner let out a huge sigh of relief.

“Awesome. I’m Laurette, and as you already know, this is Hank.” As she introduced herself I had just realized that I didn’t even know her name. I didn’t even know the Careers’ names, let alone any of the other tributes. The last thing I wanted was to get to know people before I had to fight against them, but I felt guilty for not even knowing the names of those who would need to die in order for me to survive. Suddenly, the thought of an alliance didn’t seem as appealing as it originally had.

Hank smiled fondly at Laurette as she launched into a dramatic story of her first run in with the careers on the elevator. Apparently, she made quite the impression on them with her ‘amazing wit’ and ‘intelligent sarcasm’.

“I’m surprised they didn’t slit her throat then and there.” Hank cut in, offering up the first sentence I had ever heard him speak. “In fact, if she made one more remark about their lack of brains or their idiotic tendencies, I would have done it myself.” He teased her, lightly nudging her shoulder.

Laurette frowned in response, then began to launch into another story about Hank on the train.

“Did you two know each other before the Reapings?” I interrupted Laurette’s story. I wasn’t even paying attention, and I was genuinely curious about their past. Between the ways the District 10 tributes were acting, they definitely seemed comfortable with each other. Hank wasn’t the only one who could observe.

As soon as the question left my mouth, I instantly regretted it. Both Laurette and Hank stiffened immediately and shifted an inch or two away from each other. Subtle, but enough that I noticed it.

“No, we just met on the train. Why do you ask?” Laurette asked harshly, narrowing her eyes and leaning forward toward me in a menacing manner.

“I was just asking. Why so defensive?” I retorted, throwing her attitude right back at her. Hank placed a large hand on her shoulder, pulling her back.

“I think lunch is almost over. We’ll talk strategy tomorrow.” Hank firmly stated, guiding Laurette away from our table and back into the training room.

\--

“You what!?” Luke yelled, pacing back and forth, hands in his hair. I had finally worked up the nerve to tell him about my alliance with District 10, and he wasn’t taking it too well. I had expected him to be a bit angry about the fact that I went ahead and formed an alliance without consulting him, but I hadn’t expected him to get this worked up. He never had a temper before. He used to be the calm and collected one, while I was the one with the short fuse. Unfortunately, the more time I spent with him the more I picked up on the countless ways the Games had changed him.

“You can’t do things like this without talking to me, Juliet!” His eyes met mine with an angry glare, using my full name and throwing down his glass cup in exaggeration. It shattered on the floor, causing Hilda to squeal and quickly back out of the room. “Not only am I your mentor, but I’m also your friend! I’m here to help you and guide you, but you’re too stubborn to realize that.”

My temper flared at his intense reaction. He claimed he was there for me, and I had tried to see things from his perspective, but I was getting sick of his hot and cold attitude.

“Obviously you don’t understand, Luke! I think I know what is best for myself. I trust these people. They won’t stab me in the back, literally or figuratively.” I argued, stomping my foot.

“Do you even hear yourself right now? You have absolutely no way of knowing that! If I were as trusting and naïve as you’re being right now, I wouldn’t have made it out of that arena alive.” His voice cracked, but I wasn’t about to back down so easily.

Luke slammed his fist into the wall beside him, not fazed one bit as it cracked and split under the weight of his punch. My anger built up even more at his dig, enraged that he had the guts to call me naïve after everything I was going through.

“I can do what I want! It’s my decision that matters!” Grabbing the nearest picture frame on the table beside me, I chucked it at his head, using pure force and no aim. To my surprise, the corner of the wooden frame collided into his forehead, right above his eyebrow. Luke stared me down, too furious to notice or care about the cut that appeared above his eye. A thin line of blood made its way down his face, and he wiped away, breathing heavily.

“You’re _my_ tribute! As your mentor, I can’t just give up on you and let you do as you please. I’m the one with the experience here, and I think you need to remember that.”

“As my mentor? As my mentor? I wish you weren’t my mentor! I don’t want a mentor! I want a friend. But you’re too worried about yourself. Your selfish, and you’re ignoring me to protect yourself. And now, suddenly you’re acting like you control me, because you’re too scared to let me handle anything on my own.” I spat, my gaze boring into his in an intense stare down.

Luke turned away from me, storming off to his room and slamming the door behind him. As the sound of his door slamming shut echoed through the hallway on our floor, it was like a slap in the face. I immediately felt guilty. It wasn’t fair of me to go out of my way to trust an alliance when Luke’s first alliance actually did turn on him in the arena. I pushed him too far, but I still didn’t feel any remorse about making my own decisions. I was too stubborn to let go of my pride and say sorry, so I did the only thing I could think of: stomp over to my room and slam the door as well.

I heard murmurs coming from the kitchen, and I immediately knew Hilda, Barrick, and Atlas had been listening. I don’t know why Luke and I suddenly seemed to disagree about everything. We were both stubborn in our own way, and after 10 years of friendship, we knew that all too well. But here, in the Capital, it seemed as if every argument was a million times worse than our subtle spats we used to get in. I didn’t understand why he couldn’t see that I needed him to be there for me and support me, not direct me.

I though back to our lives before we were affected by the Hunger Games. I wasn’t exactly popular in District 9, but I wasn’t hated. It was no secret that I wasn’t a girly-girl. I was always dressed in lose, comfortable clothing and played sports with the boys. The few female friends I had constantly told I was pretty and could be beautiful if I tried, but things like makeup and dresses didn’t interest me. I preferred to be covered in dirt than covered in glitter.

People became way more interested in me when my best friend came back as a victor. Luke and I had always been closer than any of our other friends, but it was hard for me to approach him when he returned. I was getting to the age where I realized I couldn’t stay one of the guys forever. I had always thought that I would grow up, fall in love, and live a comfortable life, whether it was with Luke or someone else.

I never thought Luke would be reaped. And when he was, I never thought he would make it through one of the toughest games of all time, killing 7 people. It wasn’t as if he had sought out tributes to kill, he was just constantly put in life or death situations. Kill, or be killed. I didn’t want to see him become a murderer, but I would never judge him for doing what he had to do.

When he first came back, I thought he had changed completely, and I hated him for it. In his interviews, he had changed from the sweet, childish boy I used to know to an arrogant, self-centered man. I found out later he was acting, but it didn’t make me hate him any less. Part of me had held onto hope that when he game back, things would return to normal.

It wasn’t until after his victory tour that he finally worked up the nerve to knock on my door. After an extremely awkward reunion, it seemed as if things were changing back to the way they used to be between us.

Luke was right, I was naïve.

With a heavy heart, I dragged my body toward the shower and hoped I would get a few hours of sleep.

\--

Breakfast was awkward. Everyone pretended as if nothing had happened the night before, but Luke and I remained mostly silent. Although I tried not to look at Luke, I couldn’t help but notice the bandage above his eye. It definitely didn’t help that Atlas continued to stare me down, a disgusting smirk portraying his amusement at my discomfort.

I quickly scarfed down my breakfast, much to Hilda’s discontent, and prepared for my third and final day of training. Glancing at my watch, I entered the elevator ten minutes early, going up one floor instead of down nine.

“Right on time, I see. I guess we made a good choice, right Hank?” Laurette teased, stepping into the elevator. If she had hostility toward me about yesterday, she didn’t show it. Hank followed behind her, flashing me a quick smile. Thankfully, we didn’t encounter any other tributes on the way down and were able to talk strategy. It was decided that we would all run as close to the Cornucopia as we could get, hopefully each snagging a bag. I didn’t think it was the best plan to run straight into danger, but it was worth the risk. If we didn’t get any supplies, we wouldn’t survive very long. I was hoping I could discuss the strategy with Luke, but after his reaction to my alliance and our fight there was no way I would bother to bring it up.

My allies and I entered the training room, prepared to practice a few things before our sessions with the game makers. Laurette, Hank, and I prepared to go to the first aid station, but we were stopped by a group of muscular tributes.

“What District are you from, District 12?” The tan, dark-haired female at the head of the pack sneered toward the other tributes in my alliance, barely noticing me standing beside them.

“What’s it to you, Essie?” Laurette sasses back, twisting her face into an equally menacing expression.

“Don’t use my name, Bloodbath. See you in the arena.” She pushes past our group, motioning for the other Careers to follow. I noticed the giant Four etched on her back and was immediately surprised. Usually the Careers from District 4 were the weakest tributes, but this girl seemed cunning and as if she had equal amount of brains and brawn. She wasn’t the muscle of the group, that appeared to be District 2, but she seemed twice as deadly.

“We really need to watch out for her.” Hank let out a low whistle, speaking what was on everyone’s minds. I was glad she hadn’t noticed me, as it just made me less of a target. It still stung a bit that she deemed me so pathetic that I wasn’t even worth her attention. Laurette and I let out murmurs of agreement as we began our work at the first age station.

I was the first to back out. I knew I wouldn’t be able to be of any help with wounds in the arena considering I was extremely bad with blood. That fact alone would probably end up getting me killed, which is why I was glad I had Laurette and Hank watching my back. Laurette wasn’t too shabby at stitching up wounds, and Hank was handy with natural remedies and poisons.

I actually did trust them. I felt close enough to them in the short amount of time we had known each other, and they didn’t seem like the type to stab me in the back. Of course, looks can be deceiving, but I didn’t understand why I would be asked into an alliance if they were planning on betraying me. Between the two of them, they had everything covered, and I’m pretty sure they just wanted safety in numbers and someone they could trust without putting a target on their backs. And obviously, I wasn’t a target.

There was one thing that bothered me, and that was their secrets. They were constantly giving each other glances, as if they knew something I didn’t. They certainly seemed as if they knew each other, and it bugged me that they wouldn’t let me in on whatever they were doing. I hoped they weren’t plotting something against me, but I didn’t want to portray any distrust by accusing them.

“Alright Tributes, it’s time for your private training sessions. Please exit to the room toward the north exit, and take a seat on the bench marked with your number.” The head trainer spoke firmly over the microphone, causing my stomach to do a complete flip. I needed to show everyone, including Luke, my alliance, and Atlas, that I wasn’t weak.

“Good luck, Juliet. Do your best.” Laurette whispered to me as we walked into the waiting room. The District 10 tributes sat down on their bench, and I noticed Laurette was shaking. Hank placed his hand in hers, and began talking to her in a hushed voice. I looked away, knowing it wasn’t my place to listen in on their conversation.

“Hey, Julsey. You ready to do some pretty little flips for the Gamemakers?” Atlas teased, his condescending tone making me tense up.

“You don’t know what I’m going to do, Atlas.” I replied with indifference, attempting to turn away and ignore him.

Atlas stared ahead, a smirk playing on his lips as he continued the conversation in a casual tone. “Oh, but I do. You don’t think I know what you can do? I know your strengths and your weaknesses, although there is definitely more of the latter.”

I rolled my eyes so hard I was sure they would pop out of my sockets, but on the inside, I felt sick.

“You and Luke aren’t the only ones on our floor, you know. I hear everything you talk about, and I know what plans you have.” He continued, relaxed and confident as ever.

“We never discussed what I’m showing the Gamemakers.” I hissed back, giving him the reaction he was waiting for.

“There isn’t much else you can do besides swinging on a few tree branches and landing on your feet.” He snickered at his own remark. I stayed quiet, but I was silently fuming. We may not have spoken to each other at home, but my favorite pastime hadn’t exactly been a secret and I wasn’t surprised by his knowledge.

The District 1 male was finally called in, and the room grew silent. All conversations ended and the tributes sat in silence, each contemplating their own sessions.

The District 1 female was called next. She flipped her shimmering red hair over her shoulders and crept into the room. I was surprised she wasn’t blonde, but she still had the same overly perky and seductive personality as most of District 1.

As the tributes from District 2 were called in, I couldn’t help but shudder. Both the girl, Aida, I think her name was, and the boy, Al, were tall, thick boned, and extremely muscular. They both carried themselves in the same way: strong yet slow, ruthless but unintelligent.

After the weird, skinny kid from District 3 stumbled out of the room, Moe was next. She glanced back on her way into the room, her eyes meeting mine. I was caught off guard by the amount of determination in her eyes, and more importantly, by the lack of fear.

I paid special attention to the District 4 tributes. The male seemed nervous and was pacing back and forth before he was ushered into the room. Essie sat still, watching the other tributes with a cold and calculating eye before she walked calmly into the room once her name was called. I kept my head down and managed to avoid direct eye contact.

I pitied District 5. Usually they had the sneakiest tributes, but this year they had some of the youngest ones. A scrawny 14-year old on tripped his way over toward the door, while the poor 12-year old girl was full on sobbing. She sniffled her way into the hearts of some of the non-career tributes including mine. Still, there was a gleam in her eye and I couldn’t tell if it was her fear, or if it was something else. I shook my head, clearing my thoughts. Now I was just being paranoid. I couldn’t believe I was suspicious of a poor, twelve-year-old blood bath tribute.

District 6 passed by in a blur, and I didn’t even pay attention to its tributes. A poor mistake on my part, but I was too worried about my own life to worry about theirs.

Before I knew it, Atlas stood up, and I glanced up surprised. I didn’t even hear them call his name. He gave me a wink before confidently striding over to the Avox who was waiting to lead him to the room. I looked down at my hands, and waited what was possibly the longest fifteen minutes of my life.

“Juliet Breyer, District 9.” A smooth voice announced over the speakers. I shakily stood up, returned Hank’s nod, and entered the room that would most likely hold the key to my life or death.


	6. six

“You may begin.” The Head Gamemaker peered down at me. I was surprised to see that he didn’t look too much like a typical capital person. I suppose he was much more focused on his job than getting facial reconstruction. I shuddered at the thought that his job was to design an arena for 24 tributes to fight to the death.

“I said, you may begin, Juliet.” He raised a dark eyebrow, motioning for me to continue. His sharp eyes bored into mine with a sharp focus, contrary to the other Gamemakers who seemed bored out of their minds.

I nodded, quickly scanning the massive room for an idea. My eyes landed on the rack closest to me and I walked over, grabbing a handful of light knives off the shelf. I turned with sudden movement and threw the knife as hard as I could at the target. Although it wasn’t too close to the center, the force and momentum of my throw caused the knife the burry deep into the wood. I threw a couple more before risking a quick glance at the Head Gamemaker. He seemed interested, but expecting more.

Well, he would definitely get more.

I turned toward the obstacle course, more complex than the one in training. I wondered how many tributes would use it, considering the strong ones would focus more on weaponry and the weaker tributes would show off survival skills.

Pumping my legs as hard as I could, I sprinted over toward the beginning of the course, quickly running across the long stretch of floor, jumping and rolling to dodge the rubber knives and arrows that were thrown across my path at a rapid pace. I ducked just in time to narrowly avoid a spear that sailed over my head. I could hear a slight buzz as it passed above my ear, and I had a feeling I would be delivered a nasty electric shock if I didn’t move out of the way in time. After reaching the end of the hallway-like section, I neared a dead end. After a quick second observation I noticed narrow ridges in the thick, rock like material. Notching my foot in the first ridge, I quickly scrambled up the wall in record time, hoping my speed and agility would impress the Gamemakers.

The next portion of the course was filled with real looking trees with low handing branches. I hesitated, knowing there had to be a hidden trap somewhere. Out of the corner of my eye I spied a trainer crouched behind a tall tree with a wide trunk. I dashed forward, attempting to surprise and out run my opponent, but I was disappointed to see him jump up and follow behind me at a rapid pace.

I let out a yelp as I stumbled over a surprisingly thick tree root, but managed to catch myself just in time. I kept going, attempting to speed up and lose the trainer in the mass of trees, but he was just as quick as me.

I ducked under a low hanging branch, suddenly getting an idea. I turned to the side and subtly looped back around the way I came, giving a wide berth for my pursuer to follow me around instead of cutting across the arch I created. I slowed down just enough for the trainer to be nipping at my heels. As soon as I spotted the same low-hanging branch, I sped up and leapt upward. My hands grasped around the branch and I flipped myself up and over the branch for a split second before coming down hard, landing on the back of my opponent and knocking him to the ground. While I had him pinned underneath me, surprised at my sudden aggression, I pulled a knife out of my belt loop that I had taken from the previous station and pressed it against his throat.

“I win.” I smirked slightly before climbing back off into a standing position, dusting off my knees and arms.

“You may leave.” An amused smile played on the Head Gamemaker’s face, and I wasn’t entirely sure if that was a good or bad thing.

“Thank you.” I responded politely, bowing my head slightly before exiting through the door held open for me by a tiny Avox.

\--

“Gather around, dearies! It’s time to eat! The training scores are being broadcasted soon, so let’s eat quickly!” Hilda ushered Barrick, Atlas, Luke, and I to the table, motioning for the Avoxes to serve us.

I quickly zoned out as Barrick and Hilda began to bicker, something that happened every time they were in the same room together.

“Barrick, elbows off the table!”

“Don’t tell me what to do, puff ball!” I tried to drown out Barrick’s retorts pertaining to the new, fluffy pink ball atop Hilda’s head. I rolled my eyes, focusing again on my food.

“How dare you insult my fashion taste?”

“Oh come on, how can that be considered fashion? It looks like you stuck a bunch of cotton candy all over your head!”

“Oh please, as if you know anything about fashion!”

“Will you two please knock it off?” I slammed my fork down against the table, catching the attention of everyone in the room.

It was a quiet meal after that.

\--

“So, how do you think your training session went, Atlas?” Hilda question as we were all seated in front of the television, waiting for the scores to be broadcasted.

“Oh, it definitely went well.” Atlas laughed, verging on sounding like a maniac.

“That a’ boy,” Barrick clapped Atlas on the back, “District 9 might have another winner this year.”

I was fuming. I looked over, feeling slightly less frosty toward Luke when I noticed him scowling at Barrick.

“And would anyone like to know how I did?” I growled, surprising the room for the second time that night.

“So now Ms. Independent wants someone else’s opinion?” Luke replied sarcastically. I opened my mouth to respond, but was cut off by the sound of Panem’s anthem.

“It’s starting!” Hilda squealed, earning a glare from Barrick.

Caesar Flickerman appeared on the screen, his skin a bright orange and hair a polished white.

“Hello and welcome, Panem! Are you ready to hear the training scores of this year’s Hunger Games tributes?” A loud cheering noise came from the television, from what I presumed was a live audience.

“Let’s start with District 1! First we have seventeen-year-old Layla Macco, with a score of seven!” A picture of the seductive redhead flashed onto the screen, along with her training score. She definitely didn’t seem like the strongest Career, but I was surprised she didn’t have a higher score.

“Next up we have eighteen-year-old Cliff Johnson, with a score of six!” I tilted my head to the side, even more surprised at his score. His picture showed a pale, extremely muscular blonde with an angry glare. He seemed as if he could take out his District partner in a heartbeat, yet he got a lower score than her. Usually the careers scored between a seven and ten, yet his was exceedingly average.

“Fifteen-year-old Aida Horne from District 2, with a score of eight!” The girl’s picture popped up, and we were greeted with the angry looking face of a giant, overly muscular female. My eyes widened. Fifteen? Why would she volunteer at such a young age? She must be extremely confident with her abilities.

“Al Missler, eighteen years old, with a score of nine!” Al looked almost identical to his District partner; equally as bulky and masculine.

I leaned forward in my seat, excited to hear Moe’s score. “District 3’s thirteen-year-old Moe Sparks also with a score of nine! Incredible!” Hilda gasped, shocked to see such a young tribute with such a high score. I smiled to myself, happy and nervous for her at the same time. She would definitely have a target on her back, as she scored higher than three of the Careers so far. For some reason, I wasn’t completely shocked at her score. She was definitely feisty, and probably had a hidden skill.

Moe’s district partner received a score of three, earning a sigh of sympathy from Caesar. He moved on to District 4, and I prepared myself for very high scores.

“Eighteen-year-old Essie Reef from District 4 received a score of ten! Amazing, huh folks?” Essie picture flashed beside her score, her eyes staring intensely into the audience. Gordon, the male tribute for District Four received a nine. Barrick seemed surprised at the capability of District Four’s tributes, like I was when I first encountered them.

The poor 12-year-old female from District 5, Ribbon Karr, got the lowest score so far - a two. Her District partner scored a four. District 5 would most likely not have a winner this year.

The District 6 tributes both scored a five, which seemed pretty average. Another score that caught my attention was the male tribute from District 7. While his district partner earned a three, the eighteen-year-old Johnny Rent got an eight. He was definitely another contender, and I was hoping I wouldn’t come across him in the arena.

The tributes from District 8 scored a four and a five, pretty average scores and similar to the tributes from Six. I didn’t pay them much attention, too busy bracing myself for my own score.

“Next, from District 9, we have seventeen-year-old Juliet Breyer, with a score of seven!”

A seven? I got a seven? I thought I did pretty well, but not that well.

“Nicely done, Juliet.” Barrick nodded approvingly. I felt pride at seeing the slightly alarmed look on Atlas and Hilda’s faces. I expected a snide remark from Luke, or maybe even congratulations, but he remained silent. I crossed my arms, disappointed I didn’t even get a reaction from the one person I counted on to be there for me. I was tempted to take a glance at his expression, but I forced myself to keep my gaze on the screen.

I refocused just in time to see Atlas get a score of eight. Barrick and Hilda cheered for him while Luke remained silent once again. I didn’t even want to know what he showed the Gamemakers. There were plenty of high scoring tributes this year, and although I was nervous about the competition, I felt proud that my score was in competition.

I suddenly remembered that my allies were up next, and I watched curiously. Laurette managed to get a six, while Hank got a five. I wasn’t surprised; Laurette was definitely a spitfire, and the Gamemakers probably decided she deserved a greater score than Hank, who seemed as if he couldn’t hurt a fly.

Districts Eleven and Twelve scored low, but no one was paying attention at this point anyway. I noticed that by the time the broadcast had come to an end, Luke and I were the only ones left in the room.

“Juliet, wait.” Luke’s soft voice stopped me as I was walking back to my room. I turned around with a sigh, feeling too exhausted to fight again.

“I miss it when you call me Jules.” A ghost of a smile appeared on my face as I stepped closer to him, itching to wrap my arms around him in a hug for what would probably be the last time.

“I’m going to miss you so much.” His voice cracked and he wrapped his arms tightly around me, lifting my body slightly off the ground. I buried my face in his chest, attempting to hold back tears. The past few days we had been hot and cold, but we were both finally realizing our time together was almost up.

“I’m so, so sorry,” he continued, “You were right, I was being selfish. It’s just that the thought of losing you has been driving me mad. I was hoping that if I found reasons to be mad at you it would make it easier, but…” He trailed off, and we stood in silence for a couple minutes.

I let out a short, sarcastic laugh. “Well, it’s not like I have much of a chance anyway. Have you seen some of the other tributes?” I attempted a pathetic joke, but his arms tensed around me.

Luke pulled away slightly, looking down at me with a stern expression. “Don’t say that, you got one of the higher training scores. I believe in you Jules, I really do. You’re a fighter. You can win this.”

“But I can’t just kill people, Luke. It’s not right!” I bit my lip harshly, blinking in an attempt to contain the tears pooling in my eyes.

“I can’t promise you that it will be easy. But trust me, when it comes down to your survival, I know that you can do whatever it takes. As long as you come back to me. And if not for me, for Kit and your parents.”

I felt guilty. I had been so consumed by the Games I hadn’t given any thoughts to my family back home. How was Kit? How were my parents? Did anyone from school miss me? Would I even make it back to find out?

“The only thing that got me through my games was knowing that my family was waiting for me. That you were waiting for me.” He took a deep breath.

I looked up, my eyes meeting Luke’s. He used his thumb to wipe the tears from my cheeks, and I could have sworn I saw his own eyes watering.

“Promise me you’ll come back. Promise me.” Luke pleaded, speaking softly. I bit my lip harder in an effort to hold back the tears. I was sure that if I attempted to speak, I would start openly sobbing. The look of complete despair on his face mirrored my own, and I couldn’t find any words.

The next thing I knew his hand was cupping the back of my head and his lips were on mine. I barely had time to register what had happened before I found myself kissing him back, all my emotions flooding me at once.

I had hated him when he left me and became a Victor, because it was easier than the alternative. I don’t know when my feelings had crept up on me, but I realized I had known all along.

Suddenly he jumped backward, his eyes and mouth open wide. His face was flushed, and he stared at me with a bewildered expression. I couldn’t say I looked much different.

“Oh god, I’m sorry.” He choked, quickly backing up out of the room and rushing down the hallway.

All the energy I had before left my body. I sat down on the couch, making no move to wipe away the tears silently slipping down my cheeks. I had no idea if I could handle being apart from him for a second time, but I guess I wouldn’t have to wait much longer to find out.


	7. seven

"Now Juliet, just because your mentor is not here doesn't mean you can lose your focus. Pay attention or you'll go out there looking like a bumbling idiot!" Hilda scolded me once again as my attention drifted from the vibrant woman in front of me. I hadn't seen Luke all day; In fact, none of us have. I guess he was back to his old way of ignoring me and hoping everything would work out.

But Luke was the least of my problems at the moment. Right now I was pulling on my uncomfortable dress, silently cursing Nimmo. He had once again put me in a stunning gold number, sticking with his claimed inspiration of District 9’s “golden grain fields”. Unfortunately, this dress was even tighter around my midsection than the last, cinching in at my waist and making it difficult to take a deep breath. The neckline dipped a little low for my liking, but at least the length flowed all the way down the floor, pooling around my ankles and dragging behind me.

I mumbled in response to Hilda, making a snide comment about the high heels I was forced into. The dress completely covered the shoes anyway, but I guess she thought I needed a few inches of extra height. Hilda shook her head at me before walking away, mumbling about how I was 'a lost cause'. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and instead made my way over to Laurette and Hank, who were stationed right behind Atlas.

"Oh, wow. You’re going to blind me with that thing.” Laurette teased, eyeing my outfit up and down. I groaned, putting my head in my hands.

"I know, it's so bad." I whined, jealous of Laurette's lavender dress and wavy hair. I felt my own hair, which for once fell down my shoulders in thick, bouncy curls instead of its natural wavy mess.

Laurette shook her head, disagreeing. “No, you look great. I promise.”

I flashed her smile before I was sent back to my spot in line. I stepped into the empty spot in front of Atlas, ignoring his creepy stare and facing forward as the lights dimmed. We stood in the dark for a minute as Caesar walked out on stage, cheers erupting through the crowd.

“Be careful what you say out there, Julsey. Only nice things about me, I hope.” I nearly jumped out of my skin as I felt Atlas’ hot breath on my ear, the tips of his fingers resting on my bare shoulder. Before I had a chance to respond, we were quickly ushered out onto the stage and into our predestined chairs.

"Hello and welcome, Panem! I hope you're all doing wonderful! Who's excited to meet this year's tributes?" Caesar smoothed back his silver gray hair and flashed his pearly whites at the screaming crowd. The District One female was called up to the stage.

Her long, sleek red hair bounced as she flounced up to the stage in a short, sparkly silver number. "Hello Caeser, I'm so happy to be here!" Layla giggled, flipping her hair behind her shoulder and winking at the audience.

I zoned out for the beginning of her interview, which consisted mostly of giggling and praising Panem. It wasn't until the end of the interview that Caesar asked about something interesting.

"So, Layla, let's talk about your training score of seven. What do you think of your score?"

The corner of her mouth twitched, as if she was annoyed at the question. "My score doesn't give enough of a representation of what I plan to do in the arena. That being said, I'm proud of my score." She had lost her ditsy attitude and was serious for once. Clearly, he had struck a nerve.

"There were a few tributes from the outer districts that matched your score or had a higher score than you. I think everyone was expecting you to have a higher score than most. I suppose you have more to show than what can be judged during a training session. Am I right?" The crowd began to cheer, showing their love for Layla.

Layla turned in her seat, glaring at the row of tributes behind her. Her gaze lingered on mine, causing me to look away quickly. With my head turned to the left, I watched as Moe met her gaze head on, glaring back with a quiet smugness about her.

"Don't worry, Caesar. I'll be sure to pay extra attention to those tributes, especially the twerps from Three and Nine," She sneered, her beautiful face twisted into a scowl. "I'd like to see either of them beat me in a one on one fight." The crowd cheered her on, causing my stomach to drop. I look down at the ground, hoping to calm the flush that reached my cheeks.

Her buzzer went off, signaling the end of her interview and the beginning of Cliff’s.

Layla’s district partner was basically an unresponsive, unemotional machine. He didn't even flinch as Caesar mentioned that he had the lowest training score of all the Careers. It was surprising that he didn't try to play the crowd at all, or even take a mysterious approach to his interview. I wasn't sure how strong he would be in the arena, but I didn't think he would have many sponsors. I tried to think back to the Reapings, wondering why he had bothered to volunteer. He didn’t seem like someone who had trained their entire lives for this moment, like most of the Careers did.

The 15-year-old from District 2 was another crowd favorite. She was tough and loud, and took the capital by storm. They admired her bluntness and sheer will power to crush every tribute in the room. I did not.

Her District partner wasn't much better, and I just didn't understand the mindset of being excited to fight to the death.

Moe's interview was interesting. I hadn't had much time to talk to her, but she was very fierce and intelligent, which was an interesting combination for a thirteen year old. She reminded me so much of my sister Kit, and I was hoping I wouldn't come across her in the arena. I didn't want to see where she got her score of nine from.

Her District partner barely got a word out and earned no sympathy from the crowd. They taunted and teased as the poor, nervous boy stuttered and played with his glasses. I was disgusted by myself for feeling nothing but relief that there was one less contender for the title of victor.

Essie had the best interview by far, and I wasn't surprised in the slightest. She was the biggest threat in the arena, not only for her physical abilities but for her strategic mind. I wouldn't say she was the most intelligent, but she definitely was the cleverest. Her interview was short and simple, but she said all the right things to intimidate the tributes in a sweet and caring way that had the crowd rooting for her. Her District partner Gordon's interview fell flat compared to Essie's, but he was strong, handsome, and sure to receive some sponsors.

The little twelve-year-old from Five had the hearts of everyone in Panem. Still, there was something odd about her that I wasn't too keen on finding out.

Before I knew it, the boy from District 8 was finishing up his interview and I was being called to the stage.

"Hello, Caesar." I spoke politely, thanking him for his compliment on my outfit and hair. I silently thanked Nimmo, even though it was nearly impossible to breathe deeply enough to calm my nerves. For the first half of the interview we spoke mainly of my time in the Capitol, and I was grateful for the opportunity to win over the crowd with compliments. He then began asking about my family, making me slightly emotional and causing me to lose most of my confidence.

"Juliet, what is your family like at home?" He inquired, leaning forward in his seat and cocking an eyebrow.

"Well, I have two very loving parents and a wonderful younger sister. I'm not sure what I would do without them, and I can't imagine what I would do if it was me at home watching my sister's interview." I bit my lip, holding back the tears as the crowed murmured sympathetically. I felt the urge to stand up and scream about how heartless they were, but I contained myself from making that fatal mistake.

He inquired more about my family before asking the dreaded question that the Capitol seemed most interested in. "Any romances we should be aware of?" He winked at the crowd, drawing a cheer from them. I was sure my face was tomato red, but I answered as honestly as I could.

"It's complicated. I mean…" I trailed off, covering my mouth with my hand and earning a chuckle from Caesar as well as the crowd.

"Care to tell us more?" I hesitated for a second, then decided it would help me get more sponsors as long as I didn't reveal too much or put anyone specific at risk.

"I have a best friend," I chose my words carefully, "and I'm not exactly sure where we stand. But I guess it doesn't matter, since I don't think we can ever be together." My voice cracked accidentally but I held my head high, hoping the crowd would eat it up.

"I'm sure that this lucky man back in District 9 is missing you greatly." Caesar sympathized, patting my knee and pursing his lip.

"Something like that." I smiled sweetly, knowing better then to correct Caesar and say that he was not, in fact, back in District 9, but right here in the capital.

"So, does this mean nothing is going on with your stunning District partner? All of Panem is dying to know!" A clip of Atlas and I during the chariot ride was played on a screen behind us, showing Atlas with his arm around my waist, pulling me close.

I couldn’t help the sour expression on my face, and I knew I would be getting in trouble with Hilda later.

"I can assure you, there is nothing going on between my district partner and I." I tried not to laugh at the outrageous statement, thankful to clear that up before Atlas had a chance to lie to the audience. I was tempted to say more, but I didn’t think it would do me any favors to bash my district partner right before entering the arena.

My buzzer sounded and I thanked Caesar for his time before sitting back down in my seat, bracing myself for the egomaniac's interview. Atlas got up from his chair, the crowd cheering even louder as he blew a kiss into the audience and shook Caesars hand.

"I see you received a very good score, Atlas." Caesar commented as the noise eventually died down. "Care to enlighten us as to what when on with your training session?"

"Ah, but you'll just have to wait and see, Caesar. That goes for all of you too." Atlas gestured at the audience, making the ladies swoon. I rolled my eyes wondering how they couldn’t see the psychotic glint in his eye. He seemed confident that he would win, but there was much more to it than that. From the moment we shook hands back in District 9, I could tell that he would have no trouble harming any of the tributes, including myself. He seemed to enjoy preying on those weaker than him. Atlas loved to catch me off guard, gaining pleasure from my uncomfortableness. Although I should have been expecting it, once again, he managed to shock me with the rest of his interview.

"I assume you'll be saying the same as Juliet? That there is nothing between you two?" Caesar leaned forward, eyebrows raised.

"If I said that, I would be lying." Atlas smirked, glancing in my direction. My stomach dropped at his words. Where was he going with this? He then twisted his face into a more upset expression, pouting his lip at the audience.

"Of course, I expected her to deny it. I felt that we were getting really close before our time in the arena, but I found out she was becoming close to some of the other male tributes as well, like the one from Ten. She really had me fooled." He sighed as the audience gasped at his bold claim.

I gripped the side of my chair, my knuckles turning white. He basically called me a slut in front of all of Panem! How would anyone believe me if it was my word against his?

Caesar clicked his tongue in fake sympathy and disbelief after he recovered from his initial shock.

But Atlas wasn't finished, and he continued on, playing the bitter ex-lover extremely well. "I wouldn't be surprised if she had something going on with our mentor too." He spoke sourly, taking it way too far. How could the crowd believe him as he bashed their beloved victor? By the faces of the other tributes, I could tell they had the same thoughts. What was his ploy here? I had no doubt that I would have lost sponsors if I had said anything bad about Atlas, but he was able to spin this in a way that gained him sympathy. I looked out into the front of the crowd where the mentors and previous victors sat. Barrick was grimacing as he watched Atlas, making me feel slightly better knowing that he wasn’t in on the plan either. Luke’s arms were crossed, his face completely blank. He used to be easy to read, but by now he’s had plenty of practice in keeping his emotions hidden.

The rest of Atlas’ interview consisted of charming the pants off the audience and having light hearted dialogue with Caesar. My mind still reeling, I zoned out for the rest of the interviews, including Laurette's and Hank's. I predicted that Laurette would be good at capturing the audience, while Hank would have some trouble considering his more reserved personality.

Once the interviews concluded, I rushed off the stage and into the nearest bathroom where I gagged over the toilet. It didn’t even matter what Atlas said about me anymore, we would be on our own by tomorrow morning. I wouldn’t have my family, Luke, Barrick, or even Hilda to help guide me. It wasn’t even the thought of death that scared me. It was the loneliness, the fear, and the pain that I would have to endure.

The door to the bathroom swung open and the sound of heels clicking got louder until it stopped right behind me. “Come on, dear. You need to get rest before tomorrow.” Hilda’s voice was strangely quiet, lacking its usual shrillness. As if in a dream, I allowed her to guide me up to the 9th floor. Barrick was lounging on the couch, some sort of bottle in his hand.

“Where’s Luke?” I questioned, hoping I would see him one last time.

“He had business to attend to.” Barrick muttered drunkenly, not bothering to look up at me.

Tears pooled in my eyes and I shrugged off Hilda’s touch, entering my room for the last time. I wrapped myself tightly in the covers, letting the tears finally fall and carry me off to sleep.

\--

Silence. That's all I heard throughout the hallway as I was ushered toward the hovercraft. I had only been awake for an hour, but it was all a blur as I let Hilda and my prep team guide me to my death. I touched my forehead, wondering if I had imagined the soft kiss that was placed to my head in the middle of the night. I wondered what might have happened if I had been awake when Luke had come home.

“Juliet!” As if on cue, his voice called my name.

"What are you doing? Are you even allowed to be here?" I squeaked in surprise, taken aback by his sudden entrance.

He placed his hands on my shoulders breathing heavily as if he had run the entire length of the hallway.

"I needed to talk to you before you got on that hovercraft. Just remember everything I've told you. And whatever you do, please just don't run right into the Cornucopia. It's too dangerous. A-and, just, be careful and don't make any stupid decisions." He hesitated, shaking my shoulders as he tried to give me last minute advice.

"Luke, shut up. Why did you need to tell me everything I already know?"

"I just needed to make sure I said everything." He whispered, hesitating as if there was something more to say. I held his gaze, urging him on with my eyes, but I was roughly yanked away by a peacekeeper.

“Keep moving, we’re on a schedule here.” His gruff hands spun me around, ushering me into the hovercraft.

Silence descended again once we were all strapped in, not even a quiet hum that signaled we were in flight. The tributes were placed against the wall, each facing their own District partner. I sat facing Atlas, next to a shaking girl from District 8 and Laurette. I looked around, making eye contact with an angry looking girl with a Six etched on her chest. She gave me a slight nod and I nodded back, feeling a strange sense of rebellion at the comradery.

My arm was slightly sore where the tracker was planted deeply into my skin. I craned my neck to try to reach eye contact with either Moe or Hank, but it was too dark to see clearly. A few hours into the flight, the windows to the hovercraft closed over, putting the tributes in darkness and alerting us that we were nearing our destination.

After another half an hour I felt the hovercraft beginning to descend. The pale blonde from Six lifted her head in alarm, her angry face disappearing and fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. I smiled sympathetically at her, wishing I could somehow comfort her. But how can I comfort someone who will most likely be dead in a few days?

Soon, I felt a jolt and knew we had stopped. It was hard to tell whether we were still floating in the air or on land, but when a peacekeeper entered the room, my suspicious were confirmed. We were each unstrapped from our seats and led down separate hallways.

Nimmo entered the room where I waited. I sighed, holding my hand out for my arena outfit. He looked unusually somber, placing a folded stack in my hands. I pulled the suit on over my body, marveling at the thin, flexible, dark grey material that fit like a second skin. I stretched my arms, examining the suit. It seemed as if it was made for many different types of things. It looked water resistant and durable, and the long sleeves and high neckline shielded my skin from what I guessed would be a harsh sun. The only issues with the suit are that it wouldn't keep in heat very well and would not be good for camouflage.

"Good luck, Juliet. You were a pleasure to have, dear." Nimmo sighed, probably just disappointed that his masterpieces would go to waste after my death. I shook my head in disbelief before settling down on the hard metal chair, waiting for a signal to stand in the tube and be taken up to the arena.

"Attention tributes, five minutes until the beginning of the 73rd Hunger Games." I hadn't even realized I was shaking until then. I tried to be brave, but I couldn't keep up the tough girl act any longer.

"Do your worst, kid." Nimmo patted me awkwardly on the shoulder and exited, leaving me alone in the slightly chilly room. I stood up, trying to calm my shaking figure by pacing back and forth.

"Attention tributes. One minute until the beginning of the 73rd Hunger Games. Please enter your tube."

With quivering hands, I took slow steps toward the tube. I hesitantly placed one foot into the entrance, wondering what would happen if a tribute refused to enter it. Instant death, probably. I decided I might as well try to extend my life as long as possible, so I put my other foot into the tube as well.

As soon as my entire body was in, the entrance was sealed and all sound was blocked. The plate began to rise, bringing me up to the dreaded arena.

Flashes of my life before I was reaped played in my mind. I fingered the dainty locket Kit had gifted me, only filling me with more dread instead of comforting me with thoughts of home.

I began to imagine the way I would die. I was hoping it would be somewhat painless, but the chances of that were slim. Perhaps I would be mauled by some sort of a mutation, or maybe brutally stabbed by a Career. I suppose the way you go doesn't necessarily matter. It all ends in the same result.

I looked up, only to be met with harsh sunlight as the skylight opened above me. With a final click, the metal plate beneath me locked into place.

Caught off guard by the bright sun, I tried to focus as an unknown loud speaker counted down from thirty. My eyes blinked a few times, adjusting to the change in brightness.

I knew my face was probably on the television screen of all of Panem, but that thought was pushed to the back of my mind as I was finally able to squint through the light and take in my surroundings.

May the odds be ever in my favor.


	8. eight

Grey rock loomed above me, coming to a stop about fifty feet up. I spun around quickly, wondering why there was no Cornucopia in sight. I looked around in alarm, confused at this new set up. Far to my right, I could make out another tribute. Another unidentifiable tribute was to my left, looking as confused as I was.

There was fifteen seconds left on the clock that was somehow visible in the sky. Behind me, soft waves lapped against the beach underneath my metal plate. Five feet in front of me the rock cliff started, leaving little to be seen. I assumed the rock was in somewhat of a circle, with the tributes placed evenly around it.

Did I go right or left? I had a feeling that no matter which way I went, I would wind up circling back around to my starting point. Unless I was stopped by another tribute, of course.

Five seconds left.

I needed to decide. What would Luke say?

Up.

“Let the 73rd Hunger Games begin!” A gong rang through the air, and I propelled my body forward, latching on to the rocks as I did during my training session.

The rock was moist and quite slippery, probably a result of high tide. As quickly as I could, I scampered up the cliff, thankful that I was on the smaller side and a natural climber. Otherwise, I would have ended plummeting down to my death.

As my fingers closed around a ledge in the rock, the ridge beneath my right foot gave way. My leg slammed against the rock, the rough edge digging into my knee and tearing through the thin suit. I grit my teeth, ignoring the blood that trickled down my leg.

I decided I didn’t have time to slow down, so instead I sped up my pace, nearing the top. My hand closed around the top of the cliff and I pulled my body up with a moment’s hesitation.

What would I find when I reached the top? Would I be the first tribute up? Would I be the last? I certainly hoped it wasn’t the latter.

My hands were burning, sore from rubbing against the rough stone that lined the cliff. Panting, I managed to get my entire body over the edge, immediately standing up and looking around.

I was standing on what looked like the edge of a plateau, except for the thin rock line that connected the plateau to a dense forest. A silver Cornucopia sat dead center, shining in the hot sun.

I could see the glint of weapons inside, as well as a mass of backpacks strewn across the rocks. Instead of seeing fighting tributes, I didn’t see anyone. I saw a flash of blonde hair as the girl from Six hoisted herself up and over the ledge. She quickly got to her feet, looking around before her eyes met mine with a shocked expression.

Her arrival shook me out of my haze, and I darted forward to the Cornucopia. I promised Luke I wouldn’t go in, but I was the first tribute to the top and figured I would have enough time to dart in and out. The District Six girl was hot on my heels, following me in my dash to the weapons. I grabbed a sword off of the nearest rack, spinning around to check if anyone else had reached the top.

I ran out of the Cornucopia, grabbing a medium sized backpack near the entrance to the giant silver structure and looking around for other tributes. I looked around in a circle, watching as Aida from Two kicked a tribute down before he could pull himself entirely onto the plateau. The dark-haired boy was caught off guard and was sent flying backward, his mouth in a perfect ‘o’ as he was sent to his death.

Aida turned toward the Cornucopia, her lips twisted into a grimace. I tried to sprint away, but she caught sight of me and pounced. Before I could react, she had me pinned to the ground, a wild look in her eyes. She punched me in the face, her fist connecting with the bone right below my eye. I screamed and thrashed, but my small body was no match for her larger one. She glanced around, as if she was looking for something. I realized then that she didn’t have a weapon on her, and that gave me the confidence boost I needed to throw all my weight to the side, rolling her over so I was on top.

All around us, tributes were beginning to fight, and I was surprised at how long it had taken some of them to get to the top. In the moment I was distracted, Aida let out a blood curling scream of anger and raked her nails across my face. The stinging pain made me gasp, but I managed to keep my body weight on top of her. Her hands closed around my neck, but I grabbed a fistful of her dull brown hair. Yanking upwards, I brought her head up before slamming it back down against the hard rock.

She let go of my neck in a daze, and I pushed myself off of her, groaning with frustration when I realized my sword was lost during the fight.

Not that I knew how to use it anyway.

The backpack was still secure on my back, and I decided it was time to make a quick getaway.

The amount of blood surrounding me was insane. The Careers had gotten hold of the weapons, along with a few other lucky tributes. I almost lost my breakfast when I spotted a mangled hand on the ground.

A high-pitched scream came from behind me and I whirled around to see the giant from District 7 holding his younger District partner by the throat. He grabbed the side of her head, and with a sickening snap, he broke her neck. Her limp body fell to the ground, her lifeless eyes hanging open.

This was sick. They shared the same home, yet he still snapped her neck without a second thought. Bile rose up in my throat, but I fought to hold it down. I needed to get out of here, but the only way to leave was the line of stone that connected the Cornucopia to the forest. I ran toward the bridge, hoping to spot Laurette or Hank along the way.

In less than a second, the air was knocked out of me and I was lying against the rock in a dizzy haze. The face of a small girl hovered above me, and it took me a few seconds to recognize the tribute underneath the crazed expression. The twelve-year-old, Ribbon, from Five had a crocked smirk on her face, mimicking that sadistic grin I had seen on some of the Careers’ faces in previous games.

“Hello.” She chirped, her tiny body keeping me in an alarmingly tight grip.

“Ready to be my first kill?” She chuckled, slowly bringing a knife up to my face. I stared at her with wide eyes, unable to believe that this was the same girl who had appeared so innocent before. The tip of her knife hovered over my cheek, and she cocked her head to the side in a questioning glance.

“What a shame, your pretty face got messed up.” Her giggled seemed extremely out of place as she lightly traced her knife along the spot where Aida had previously scratched my face. The stinging pain brought me out of my shock and I spit in her face, watching as her expression twisted into an angry glare.

“That’s it!” She raised the knife above her head, planning to bring it down on me. I reached up and arm, grabbing her wrist and pushing up against her arm as she attempted to bring it closer to my face. I twisted her wrist, causing the knife to slide out of her fingers and onto the ground beside us. She lunged sideways, arm out stretched to grab her knife.

I got to my knees and took hold of her leg, yanking it back before she could get a steady grip on the hilt. She was surprising lighter than I thought, and she let out a yelp as I pulled her roughly backwards away from her weapon. The next moment I was on my feet, sprinting away from the bloody rocks.

Wind pounded in my ears as I took off across the long rock bridge. I was careful to stay away from the edge, but the girl in front of me wasn’t so lucky. Her foot caught on a space between two rocks and she went down hard, rolling dangerously close to the edge. The bottom half of her body went over, but she managed to hang on with her arms.

On impulse I veered close to the edge and bent down, grabbing her wrists and attempting to pull her back up. I recognized her face as the girl from Six who I continued to come into contact with. Since her body weight was greater than mine, I struggled to help her back up over the edge. It didn’t even occur to me that I could let go and drop her over the edge, meaning one less person standing in the way.

An object whizzed by my head, my ear picking up the faint swooshing noise as it reached its target.

District 6’s hands went limp in mine. Worriedly, I glanced at her face, only to see a lifeless face staring back at me. Buried deep in her skull was a knife.

I shrieked and let go of her arms, dropping the dead body over the side of the cliff. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Layla. If looks could kill, I would surely be dead. She reached back into the belt of knives strapped around her waist, her eyes hardening when she recognized my face.

“You.” She glared, twirling the knife in her fingers. I gulped, realizing that she was the one who killed the District 6 girl. That meant she had pretty good aim, or at least better than I did. But if I were to survive in the arena, I needed those knives.

Unfortunately, I valued my life a bit more, so I sprinted away like any sane person would.

A knife landed on the ground in front of me, barely skimming my ear. I reached down and grabbed the knife as I ran past, hoping that I wouldn’t stumble over the uneven rocks.

I was about half way across the thin line of rocks when I risked a glance backward. Layla was no longer pursuing me, but instead was slashing at another unlucky tribute. It was impossible to tell how many bodies were strewn around the Cornucopia. I could only make out a mass of blood and weapons. I assumed I was one of the last tributes to leave the Bloodbath, because the only other people I saw were the dead bodies and the Careers walking around, inspecting the area.

I inspected the ground as I sprinted away from the Cornucopia. Gradually, the rocks were overtaken by grass, seemingly melting into the forest. Breathing heavily, I made it off of the stone bridge and onto solid earth. I turned sharply to the left, running along the edge of the forest.

The forest seemed to also be raised above the ground, but the sides of the mountain it was on had a more gradual slope down to the beach, unlike the rock cliff which was surrounded by a sheer drop off on all sides that we had all just climbed up. The cliff and the forest were connected by the thin strip of rocks I had just run across, unnervingly long and skinny. It offered unmeasurable protection to the careers, as they were protected by the cliff on all sides and would be able to see someone coming across the connecting strip a mile away.

I had absolutely no idea what to do now. I realized then that I hadn’t seen Laurette or Hank at all during the blood bath. What if they were one of the bodies? I would have to wait until the anthem played and the faces were shown. For a brief moment I wondered how Atlas fared, but I pushed that though away. I needed to find a tall tree to settle down in for the night.

Eventually I turned into the forest, surprised at how dark it was. The leaves on the trees were extremely thick, blocking out the sunlight that threatened to come through. I expected the forest to be chilly without the sun, but it seemed as if the heat from the sun penetrated the through the leaves. If anything, it seemed to be getting hotter. I loved my little forest back in District 9, but I now realized how sparse it really was. This forest was unlike anything I had ever seen, with massive, thick trunks so close together I had to weave between them. I imagined this was what District 7 was like. Unfortunately, I don’t think I would ever find out.

I paused as the first cannon went off. Five more followed after it, signaling that there were six deaths total today. They always waited until after the Blood Bath was officially over to set off the cannons. I heard the whirr of a hovercraft, which meant the Careers had finally cleared out of the Cornucopia to let the bodies be taken away. The fact that they were out and about prompted me to move my feet at a more rapid pace.

What would the Capital think? Would six deaths be enough on the first day, or are they still hoping the death toll rises? I bet the Careers weren’t too happy. They would start hunting tributes right away.

My legs grew numb after walking for around an hour. I knew I shouldn’t stop; I wanted to put as much distance between myself and the Careers as possible. Unfortunately, I was sweating like a pig and wanted to conserve my energy for the next day.

A bead of sweat dripped into my vision, and I blinked a few times to clear my sight. In front of me was a tall thick tree, a perfect place to spend the night. It wasn’t too big compared to the others that it stood out, but it seemed sturdy. Its thicker branches went high up, which meant that I would be able to be out of anyone’s immediate vision, but still have a thick enough branch to rest on.

I quickly scaled the tree, wincing as my burning hands scraped against the bark. I grit my teeth, keeping myself from screaming out as the pain in my hands grew too much. I stopped myself on a high enough branch, taking a few moments to close my eyes and catch my breath.

I decided I had a few hours to kill before the Anthem, so I placed my backpack in front of me and carefully undid the zipper. Inside the pack was an empty water canteen, a rolled-up windbreaker, a pack of dried fruit, and a small container of nuts. On further inspection, a roll of thick medical tape was found in a smaller pocket on the outside of the backpack.

A smile made its way onto my face. I had really lucked out. I wasn’t sure why a windbreaker was in the backpack, but I kept it just in case. It may be unbearably hot now, but I wouldn’t be surprised if I woke up freezing tomorrow.

I carefully pulled the knife out of my belt and sliced pieces of medical tape to wrap around my hands. I covered the blistering flesh with the white tape, hoping it would keep them from being infected. I knew little to nothing about how to treat injuries, so I improvised.

It wasn’t until a few minutes later that I became increasingly aware of a burning sensation on my leg. I look down in surprise to realize that I had injured my knee earlier, when climbing up to the Cornucopia. My frown deepened when I noticed the deep gash on my right knee, as well as a purpling bruise that surrounded it. It seemed to have scabbed over with no signs of infection, but then again, what did I know? I could barely stand the sight of blood. Thankfully, my adrenaline seemed to desensitize me from the sight.

I quickly wrapped the bandage around it as well, rolling my eyes at the tear in my arena suit.

Leaning against the tree trunk, I took a few deep breaths. It hadn’t sunk in yet. People died today. I could have died today. And I still might, sometime in the next two weeks.

My heart rate finally slowed down to what could be called a normal pace for someone who could die any second.

Careful not to drop my backpack down 30 feet - or myself, for that matter - I pulled out the pack of dried fruit. I nibbled on a piece of mango, hoping I could make it last a bit longer. It suddenly occurred to me that I wouldn’t be able to see the sky from my current position under the heavy mass of leafy trees.

I wasn’t about to climb all the way down the tree and out of the forest, so I decided the only way to go was up. My hands felt better now that I had them covered, but my body still ached from exhaustion as I climbed higher and higher. The branches began to become dangerously thin. I misjudged how high the tree was, but it was too late to turn back now.

A branched snapped underneath my foot and I let out a tiny yelp as I fell down a few feet. My foot managed to catch on another branch further down and stop my fall. I paused for a moment to calm my heart rate before continuing my climb, eventually reaching the highest point where the leaves thinned out and I could clearly see the sky. Not only could I see the sky, but I could see what seemed like miles and miles of the arena, illuminated by the bright, milky moon, whose light must not have reached through the leaves and into the dark forest. Grinning, I mentally patted myself on the back.

I could see the faint glint of the silver Cornucopia, resting on the rock cliff that seemed small from my place in the tree. I could see the beach that surrounded the rocks, which actually extended around the forest as well. I couldn’t be sure, but I wouldn’t be surprised if there were islands dotting the ocean.

What did surprise me was a faint shape in the distance, on the other side of the forest: a large, pointed mountain which made the rock cliff pale in comparison. I decided that tomorrow I would head that way, and hope to meet Laurette and Hank along the way. We had made a tentative plan to head to the tallest point of the arena in an attempt to meet, but I wasn’t sure if they would even be able to see the mountain from wherever they were. I hoped they had managed to find each other already, for their own sake. I hadn’t realized how hard it would be to find them, if they were even alive at all

The thought hit me like a truck, and a wave of nausea passed over me. I couldn’t picture what my time in the arena would be like if they were dead. I supposed I could have allied with the District 6 girl.

But unfortunately, I knew that her face would be one of the many shown in the sky.

The anthem began to play, and I held my breath in anticipation. The first tribute shown was the male tribute from District Five. As I saw his face, my mind flashed back to the image of Aida kicking the same boy off the side of the cliff before he even had a chance.

This meant that Moe, as well as all of the Careers, were still alive. For now.

Both District 6 tributes appeared in the sky, and I felt a sharp pang in my heart when I saw the face of the girl I had tried to help. Until now, I didn’t even know that her name was Mira. I had always referred to her as the ‘District Six Girl’, and I didn’t even attempt to learn anything about her. The next tribute shown was Hadley from Seven, the girl who was brutally murdered by her district partner.

After the District 8 female’s face appeared, I held my breath as I waited to see my district partner’s face. Atlas did not appear next, and an unknown feeling passed through me. I was disgusted when I realized that I was disappointed his face wasn’t in the sky. In normal circumstances, I wouldn’t wish anyone dead no matter how horrible I thought they were, but if I came across him in the arena I knew he wouldn’t hesitate to kill me and enjoy it.

District 10 was bypassed as well, meaning both Hank and Laurette were still alive.

The male from District Eleven and both tributes from Twelve were the last of the Bloodbath’s, and I was once against disgusted at myself for the lack of care I had for the poor souls.

I climbed back down to my spot for the night, making sure to keep the backpack ready around my back and my body in a sturdy position.

Uneasily, I closed my eyes and drifted off into what would possibly be the worst sleep of my life.


	9. nine

My eyes shot open at the sound of a cannon. Within a few seconds, I had my knife in my hand, pointing it out in front of me.

It was dark. So dark, that I could barely see my hands when I put them in front of my face. I needed to leave the forest (no doubt this would be the first place the Careers would look), but I didn’t want to risk injuring myself in the dark. Besides, who knows what kind of mutations were lurking around.

I sat still in the tree, my eyes searching for something in the dark and my ears straining to hear something in the still silence. An eerie feeling came over me as I realized that there wasn’t one sound to be heard. No sound of bugs or any type of animals, contrary to the loud sound of insects that plagued the fields of District 9.

I couldn’t help but wonder what Panem was seeing on the television right now. Was it early morning there as well, or was time altered in the arena? Was the camera on me, or was there something more interesting going on? I assumed the Careers were probably on camera right now, if they were the ones who killed the tribute whose cannon woke me up.

The sky brightened considerably in the next few minutes, and I began to feel the sweltering heat of the sun on my back once again. Of course, the capital would defy physics. Shouldn’t I be provided with some relief in the shade of the trees? Definitely not - they were out to make us suffer, after all.

With a dread filled heart, I made my way down the tree. My feet made a slight thud as they connected with the soft forest floor. I had no idea what to do next. Although I was comfortable in the tree, it wasn’t safe to stay in one place for long. Last night I had decided to make my way to the mountain, but I couldn’t remember which direction was in.

I decided to head to straight. The forest should end eventually, right?

But where was I supposed to find Laurette and Hank?

A rustling noise came from my right. Before I had a chance to reach my knife, a body stepped out from behind a bush.

“Oh I knew I saw something! They tried to tell me it was just an animal, but I knew better.” Layla grinned menacingly, casually reaching down to grasp the spear that was threaded through a loop hole in her pants. “Even better that it’s you, of course. I finally get to show Panem what I’m capable of.”

Anyone brave would stay and fight. After all, it didn’t seem like there were any other Careers around, so it would be a one on one fight. But, I wasn’t brave. So I turned on my heel and sprinted off into the forest.

She followed close behind, but I could tell that she was weighed down by her heavy weapon. I had managed to transfer my knife into my hand, just in case.

While I was faster, Layla had much more stamina. I didn’t know how far I could go before I grew tired and needed to stop. Going against all sane thoughts, I turned around and chucked my knife as hard as I could. It missed by a landslide, sailing high over her head and causing her to laugh in delight.

Now I had no weapon, which means that I would be easily over powered in a fight. I took a sharp turn left, then another turn, hoping I could get back to the spot I lost my knife. Layla was now close enough to reach over and spear me in the gut, but I pushed on, hoping she would be caught by surprised at my idiotic actions.

Thankfully, she didn’t expect me to begin running in the opposite direction, and I wasn’t speared. The knife was laying in plain view, and I easily scooped it back up. I had no idea what to do now, since my first idea failed. In fact, this reminded me a ton of my training session, where I was running around the mini forest, unsure what to do.

The memory gave me an idea, which I should have thought of in the first place. I put on a burst of speed, rushing to get ahead of Layla and out of her line of sight. I heard her calling curses at me as she got further away. I knew she was still following me; the noise of our feet stampeding through the underbrush was the only noise in the forest. Once I was sure she couldn’t see me, I grabbed onto a low branch and hoisted myself up.

Just as I predicted, she came running underneath me. A few yards ahead, she stopped, mumbling to herself as she looked around.

“Come out and fight, Nine.” Layla taunted, sensing that I was somewhere nearby. I honored her request and jumped down from the tree, landing behind her in a squatting position. Her shoulders tensed and she whirled around in surprise. As if I wasn’t in control of my limbs, my arm lifted into the air, the knife flying out of my hand with deadly accuracy. The blade met her rib cage, and the redhead screamed in agony, collapsing to the ground.

My hands flew to my mouth, shocked at what I had just done. I had willingly injured another person, and possibly killed them. I darted forward, falling to the ground beside her.

“Oh my god.” I repeated to myself as I knelt down beside the injured tribute. Her eyes were wide and unfocused, her stomach matted with blood. I placed my hands near the wound, ignoring the bile rising up in my throat. Her breathing was rough and staggered, and I wasn’t sure if she was getting oxygen at all. Blood trickled out of her mouth and down her porcelain face. I must have punctured a long, or otherwise the wound wouldn’t have been so deadly.

“Please don’t die.” I sobbed, looking at her helplessly. It was selfish of me to ask that. I didn’t want her to die, because I didn’t want her death on my conscious.

A minute later, a canon went off. Fresh tears spilled from my eyes, and I looked around the forest in a haze. It no longer mattered that she was my enemy. We were all human, all hoping to survive. Now, I literally had her blood on my hands, and I hated myself.

I didn’t have to do that. I could have gone as long as I can without injuring another. I didn’t have to play the Capitol’s games. Even if I did make it out alive, wouldn’t I be haunted by these images forever? I knew Luke was, I didn’t even need to ask him. I could see the pain in his eyes, every day.

Would I even want to come out of the arena? The games never ended. The victor would always be the Capitol’s toy, responding to their every request. I had no idea what Luke was doing every time he went to the Capitol, or where he had been disappearing too the past couple days. Regardless, it was clear that becoming the victor didn’t solve anything. It only complicated things.

I didn’t understand how someone would volunteer for this. Did they not understand what it was like to be responsible for another’s life? Maybe it wasn’t fair to blame the Career districts; those types of thoughts were instilled in their brains since they were young. It didn’t condone their actions, though. There was always a choice. Obviously, I made the wrong one. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be sitting on the forest floor, crying over top of a dead body.

Feeling numb, I stood up and away from Layla’s lifeless form. I couldn’t bring myself to take the knife out of her body. It was bad enough that my hands and face were covered in blood. I looked like a murder.

And I was.

But it was time to move on. When I made it out of the Games -if I made it out of the games- I would have time for grief. I continued walking aimlessly through the forest, hoping I was going in the right direction.

My thoughts were consumed by the need for water. I hadn’t realized how thirsty I was until now. With this heat, I was probably severely dehydrated. My legs shook beneath me, threatening to give out. After another half mile, they did.

I fell forward, catching myself at the last minute. I laid my head down against the soft dirt, hoping for some relief from the heat. My eyes shut, content on just lying on the ground. I took a huge breath, my exhale turning into a giggle. How odd I must look, sprawled out on the arena floor, with my face in the dirt. Not to mention the blood covering my hands and face. I probably looked crazy. Maybe I was.

I started drifting off to sleep, except it was more like slipping into a coma. The feeling of unconsciousness threatened to overtake me. A mix of stress, lack of sleep, dehydration, and emotional exhaustion left me wishing for this all just to be over. Maybe another tribute would come find me and put me out of my misery. I would be done with all of this. Never again would I have to acquiesce to the Capitol. Never again would I watch the life drain out of another person’s eyes.

A heard the chime of the silver parachute, but the sound didn’t register until something collided with my temple. My eyes flickered open and I pulled my body into a sitting position, ignoring my protesting muscles. I was well aware of my vulnerable position, but hopefully something in the sponsor gift would aid me.

I tore open the silver package, hoping to find water inside. Instead, all that sat in the tiny package was a small piece of jerky.

I looked up at the sky with a scowl on my face, half expecting to see Luke looking back, taunting me. Obviously, he was trying to tell me to get a move on it and give up my pathetic act. Even when our relationship was in shambles, Luke wouldn’t do something without a reason. I raised my middle finger high into the air, flipping him off with a tiny smile on my face as I bit into my sorry excuse for a meal.

As pathetic as it sounded, it made me happy that Luke was acknowledging my existence. Even though I knew he would never purposefully ignore me in the arena, I was relieved that he was trying to help me.

It wasn’t long until I stumbled upon a thin, jagged stream that zig-zagged through the trees. Sprinting the last few yards, I knelt down in front of the fresh flowing water and stuck my hands in. I watched as the dark red stains covering my palms gradually dissolved, reliving me of the physical reminder of Layla. Gently cupping my hands, I brought a pool of water up to my face and washed it clean. I felt as if I was finally able to let go of the previous events and start fresh-beginning with hydrating myself before I passed out.

The sound of my backpack’s zipper echoing through the silent forest made me cringe as I took out the empty water canteen. My eyes focused on the running water as it slowly trickled into the canteen. Eventually, it was full, and I brought the tin up to my mouth. Before I could take a sip, I spotted another silver parachute out of the corner of my eye. 

I paused, holding the canteen against my lips. After a second thought, I slowly lowered the water and placed it on the ground. I reached over to pick up the sponsor gift and tore it open, careful to preserve whatever was inside. Wrapped in cloth and sitting at the bottom of the package was a small bottle. Squinting my eyes, I read the small font printed on the bottle.

Luke had sent me iodine drops. My eyes grew wide, and I silently thanked him in my head. I was too caught up in finding water to realize it could make me sick in the long run. I followed the instructions on the bottle, and after waiting an agonizing amount of time, the water was finally drinkable. It didn’t take long for me to finish off the entire canteen. Finally satisfied, I filled it up again with water to save for later.

Despite my heavy heart, I pushed myself into a standing position and left the stream.

The sky began to grow dark eventually, and soon the anthem would be shown in the sky. My eyes drifted toward the nearest tree and I hoisted myself up, knowing the forest would be what would keep me alive as long as possible. It wasn’t unusual for a District Seven tribute to stick to the trees. Most of us make it far in a forest arena, but unfortunately, knowing our way around trees does not help us beat the trained Careers.

Peaking between the branches, I looked to the sky as the anthem began to play. The first face shown in the sky was Layla. Her fierce glare seemed to be directed right at me, and my breath caught in my through. I clamped a hand over my mouth and breathed deeply, not wanting to be caught by another tribute because of my sobbing.

Only one other tribute died today, which must have been the canon that woke me in the morning. Amya Rigget, a sixteen year old from District Eleven, stared back at me with a frightened expression. I wouldn’t have even recognized her if I saw her in the arena. Although I was angry at myself for acting as if the other tributes were competition instead of real people, it was the only thing that would help me in the arena. I fell into an uneasy sleep, wishing that I could wake up back in District Nine.


	10. ten

The morning sun once again pierced through the trees, making me groggy in the heat as I woke up. The last of the dried fruit made its way down my stomach. If I didn’t find food soon, I wouldn’t make it far in the games. The container of nuts was the only thing I had left, and that would only be enough for a day. There was no point in making my food last as long as possible if I wouldn’t have enough energy to fight off an attack.

I quickly pulled the straps of my backpack over my shoulders and began to make my descent. A few feet down, my body froze as I heard voices from below. My breath hitched as I attempted to hold my body as still as possible. It was too late to climb back up the tree, and facing the tributes head on was not a good idea. The only weapon I had was buried in the stomach of Layla, and her body had to have been taken away from the hovercraft by now. I could only hope that I was high enough that I was out of their immediate line of vision.

Unless, they looked up.

A distinctly female voice reached my ears as the tributes neared closer. The second tribute shushed the girl, and continued to speak in a low voice. I was unable to tell if it was male or female, but I was assuming it was male. Besides my alliance and the Careers, I didn’t think any other tributes allied with someone from another district.

“I thought you said she would be in the forest! We’ve been walking for a day and we haven’t found her.”

“Calm down, Laurette. I doubt she would be in plain sight.”

Cautiously, I clambered the rest of the way down the trunk, making my presence known by the muffled thump of my feet hitting the forest floor.

“Laurette? Hank?” I called out, hoping my suspicions were correct. I had been keeping an eye out for my alliance for the past two days.

I spotted their matching, light brown hair as they caught sight of me at the same time.

“Juliet!” Laurette grinned and rushed over, a spear clutched in her hand and a large bag on her back. Hank followed quickly behind, looking slightly less comfortable in our open position, but he shot me a grin nonetheless.

“Told you we would find her here.” The corner of his mouth turned up in a proud smirk. Hank had as many supplies as Laurette, if not more. He also donned a large backpack, as well as a belt around his waist, filled with knives of all different sizes. In his hand he carried a long, silver sword, still shiny at the tip and clearly unused.

“We really need to talk.” Laurette sighed, her eyes darting around the forest to make sure we were alone. “But first, Hank and I are really, _really_ , hoping you have some water. We ran out yesterday.”

I handed over the water canteen I had filled up yesterday, hoping that the three fourths that were left would be enough to satisfy the District Ten pair.

The three of us had finally settled down to talk after finding a small stream not far from the place we met up. Hank had handed me the knife belt, and I graciously clipped it around my waist, feeling much more secure now that I could defend myself. Our eyes shifted nervously around the secluded area by the water. We had decent coverage amongst the thick bushes that surrounded thin stream, but in a fight to the death, one couldn’t be too careful.

Laurette split the supplies evenly among the three of us in the event that we were separated in the arena. I was shocked at the amount of food and weapons they got from the Cornucopia, so I suggested that they tell their story from the beginning.

“We just got lucky, I guess.” Laurette started, popping a walnut into her mouth. “I was facing the mouth of the Cornucopia, and Hank was only a little ways to my right. We ran in while the Careers were chasing after the tributes. I was surprised that there wasn’t anyone guarding the entrance, but I think some of the Careers were having a hard time getting up the side of the cliff.”

Hank nodded in agreement, adding onto Laurette’s previous statement. “District One. I noticed during training that they weren’t very good at climbing. Obviously they made it up faster than some districts, but I still think they’re the weak links of the Career pack. Which probably explains why we saw Layla’s face in the sky last night.”

I kept my face neutral, deciding to keep my first kill from my allies. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust them; I just wasn’t ready to talk about it yet, and I knew Laurette would definitely have a lot of questions for me.

“Where did you go after you left the Cornucopia? I kept an eye out for you both, but I think I was more focused on getting away from the Careers.” I confessed with a slight smile.

Hank explained how they ran along the beach and hid out in a small cave near a waterfall. “It was a risky spot and an obvious hiding place, but we were so tired we didn’t care.” He and Laurette shared a look, their eyes sparkling. I kept quiet, observing the two. It was obvious that they were hiding something, but I didn’t think it was something that would put me in danger. If it was something they preferred to keep quiet, I wasn’t going to break their trust over something personal.

“We spent most of the second day walking, and then we found you.” Laurette concluded, finishing the explanation of their uneventful few days in the arena.

“I have a basic idea of what the arena looks like.” I offered, catching my allies’ interest. “From what I could see from the top of one of the trees, the forest is right in the middle of the arena. The Cornucopia and the cliff are on one side, and what seems to be a giant mountain is on the other. I’m pretty sure the beach surrounds the entire arena, and I wouldn’t be surprised if there were islands out there.”

Laurette praised me enthusiastically as she mapped out the arena on the forest floor.

“Tomorrow, let’s head to the mountain.” She pointed to the crudely drawn triangle in the dirt, earning a giggle from me and a smile from Hank. “But for now, let’s go over which tributes are left.”

As if on cue, a canon rang out, causing all three of us to jump in surprise.

“One less to count.” Hank added solemnly. I held up my hands, silently ticking off fingers as we counted.

“The boy from District One, both from Two, and both from Four.” Laurette named the Careers.

“Both from Three.” I added, immediately thinking of Moe. I wondered if she partnered with her district partner, but I hoped she didn’t. She would be better off on her own. “And the psychotic twelve-year-old from Five. She literally jumped me during the blood bath and probably would have killed me if I wasn’t bigger than she was.”

Laurette looked surprised, but Hank acted as if he knew all along. “It seemed like something was off with her. But I have to admit, she played a terrified twelve-year-old pretty well.”

“Your district partner is still alive.” Laurette changed the subject, causing me to frown. I stayed quiet, hoping they wouldn’t ask anything more about Atlas. Which, thankfully, they didn’t.

“The three of us, the boy from District Eight, and Johnny from Seven.” Hank finished. “That’s fourteen of us left, minus whoever’s cannon we just heard.”

“And I bet we aren’t the only ones in the forest, either. We better get a move on it if we want to find a good spot to sleep before it gets dark.” Laurette stood up and gathered her set of supplies into her backpack. The next moment, her posture stiffened and she whirled around, her spear held out in a menacing manner.

“Who’s there? Show yourself!” She growled, crouching low. I glanced over at Hank and we shared a confused look. Nonetheless, we both readied our weapons.

After another thirty seconds, the fear that had been flooding through my veins began to dissipate and my muscles began to relax. Hank relaxed beside me and lowered his sword. Laurette bit her lip before turning to Hank and I with an unreadable expression.

“I’m sorry; I really thought someone was-”

Her apology was cut short as a flash of something dark, huge, and furry knocked her to the ground in less than a second.

“Laurette!” Hank shouted, rushing toward the animal with his sword drawn. In his furry, he was able to direct the mutt away from his district partner, giving me a chance to help her to her feet.

“Run!” I called to Hank, yanking on Laurette’s arm as I pulled her away from the stream. Hank followed close behind, the mutt nipping at his heels.

“What _is_ that?” Laurette called from behind me, her voice muffled by her heavy breaths.

“Some sort of wolf, maybe. I can’t tell.” I raced through the forest, dodging trees and hopping over roots. I didn’t want to leave my allies, but they were slowly falling behind. My survival instincts were strong and my body was aching to put myself first.

“We need to separate, it’s the only way we’ll be able to outrun it.” Hank yelled from a few feet behind me. It was the most panicked I had ever heard him sound, and it definitely wasn’t making me feel any better about our situation. “Juliet, run straight. Laurette, go left, and I’ll go right. We’ll loop back around eventually, but make sure you lose the mutt.”

I did as Hank instructed, continuing my straight path through the woods. I wasn’t a long-distance runner, but I ignored my waning stamina and kept my speed constant. Risking a glance to my left, I spotted Laurette’s pony tail streaming behind her. I couldn’t tell which one of us the mutt had followed.

I ran until my legs grew numb. I hadn’t heard anything behind me for a while, but I wasn’t taking any chances. The mutt definitely didn’t follow me, because if it had I would be dead by now. No canons had gone off since I last saw Laurette and Hank, but that didn’t mean they weren’t hurt. I slowed down to a walk and took a swig from my water canteen. We wouldn’t be going back to the stream anytime soon, so I tried to drink only what I absolutely needed, always keeping an eye out for my allies.

\---

My eyes automatically adjusted to the darkening sky. It wasn’t until I looked up and didn’t see the sun that I realized it was nighttime and I had yet to find my allies or a place to sleep. My eyes scanned the distance for Hank or Laurette. If I waited any longer to find a place to spend the night, it would be too dark to scale a tree or find a spot hidden on the ground. And it would _not_ be wise to sleep out in the open when everyone is trying to kill me.

To my left was a steep incline, with thick bushes and boulders lining the slope. Although it definitely wasn’t the best hideout in the arena, it was my only chance at safety for the night.

I crawled up the incline, the rough ground irritating my bad knee through the thick bandage. The medical tape around my cut up palms was beginning to fall off, the edges frayed and black with mud. With carefully placed steps I was able to make it to the closest rock formation. The crack between rocks was a lot deeper than I thought. I squeezed my body into the small cave and brought my knees up to my chest. 

I pulled the medical tape out of my backpack and rewrapped my hands. They were so dirty that the tape was probably making it worse, but it was too painful to throw knives or climb trees with the raw skin out in the open. I nibbled on a small portion of dried fruit, but it didn’t make it last any longer.

The sound of leaves crunching outside my cave had me reaching for my knife. I stayed quiet and hoped the tribute would pass, but they stopped right outside the opening.

“Who’s there?” I shouted, attempting to sound menacing. I hoped I would be able to scare whoever was out there away instead of drawing a fight.

A head stuck through the opening and the grip on my knife faltered.

“Juliet, is that you?” Hank’s eyebrows were raised in surprise.

“What are the odds?” I laughed, relieved. I was having major déjà vu from the moment I first met them in the arena.

“Room for one more?” He interrupted my thoughts. I scooted over, pressing my side against the cool rock so he could squeeze in. I opened my mouth to ask about Laurette, but quickly shut it again when I saw the look on his face.

He ran a hand through his short hair, a distressed look on his face. “I went in circles for hours. I even left hints everywhere I went, which was something we had discussed on the first day. Either something happened to her, or she just lost all common sense.”

“It’s a big arena. No canons went off after we separated, so that can only mean good news, right?” I assured Hank, looking at his worried face in the dim light.

As I reached over to lay a comforting hand on his shoulder, my fingers came in contact with something sticky. I held my fingers in front of my face to determine what was all over my hand.

The dark substance glistened in faint moonlight that glinted through the entrance to the cave. 

“Shit, Hank, is that blood?” I pulled my hand away from my face, appalled by the amount of blood on my hand. My mind flashed back to second day in the arena, but I forced myself to stay in the moment.

Meanwhile, Hank had reached a hand up to his arm, as if he didn’t believe me. “Yeah, I think so.” He sounded dazed, as if he had just woken up from a long nap.

“Damnit, Hank!” I grumbled as I shifted my body around to face him, “I have absolutely no idea what to do. Why didn’t you tell me before?” There was little to no medical supplies in my backpack, only the medical tape and a small roll of bandages.

“I didn’t feel it before!” My ally protested, wincing as I gently prodded at the frayed material on his upper arm, “It must have been shock. Which means it might be a lot worse than we can tell.”

I pulled away strips of his ripped arena suit, exposing the wound. Obviously, I wasn’t a medical expert, but the wound was definitely bad. “What the hell happened? Did you get bit or something?”

Hank’s breath hitched as I began to dab at the gaping wound, hoping I was doing something right. I wished Laurette was here. She was the one who knew the most about medical stuff, and she would be able to comfort Hank. He shook his head, unable to clearly recall what had happened.

“I couldn’t out run it-I had to fight it. I thought I handled it pretty well with my sword but I guess he got a good bite in on my shoulder. I’m just glad it wasn’t you or Laurette.”

Hank was the most altruistic person I knew. There was only one winner in the games. The fact that he would risk his life for his district partner, as well as a tribute from another district was the most selfless act I had ever witnessed.

My eyes had adjusted to the darkness, but it wasn’t nearly enough for me to properly address his wound. Still, I could tell that he wouldn’t have much movement in his arm again unless he was seen by a professional. His upper arm was completely torn up and it was a miracle that he hadn’t bled out or been affected by his injury until now.

“I wrapped it up as best as I can, but it’s not good.” I explained truthfully to Hank, “We’re going to need a sponsor gift, we need to do whatever we can to keep it from being infected, and-“

My ally cut me off my gripping my wrist with his good arm. “Juliet. Listen to me. Thank you, for looking out for me. But honestly, I’m only worried about making sure that Laurette is okay. And you’ve been such a good friend to her these past few days, I owe you. So I’m going to keep you safe.”

My eyes grew wide as I processed his words. “You don’t care about yourself at all?” My voice wavered as I tried to keep back my tears.

“Only one person leaves this arena alive. I swore to myself that it would be Laurette. The only thing I’m asking you to do is stick with her until there aren’t many people left. Split peacefully when the numbers get too low.” He tugged on my hand as if that would help me agree to his request.

“Of course Hank, but don’t forget that you’ll be right there with us. When it gets time, I’ll leave you to and hope that we won’t meet again.” My voice finally cracked and a tear ran down my face. I wasn’t sure if our exchange would be projected onto the television, but if it was I assumed I would lose a few sponsors. None of the Capitolites want to see a weak tribute, and that’s what I was becoming.

After my first kill, I was a mess. All the feelings I had bottled up over the past week had come pouring out. I thought I had let all my emotions out, but here I was again, except this time I was making a fool out of myself in front of another tribute.

I squeezed my hand in Hanks, a purely platonic gesture. “I guess you and Laurette knew each other before the Reapings after all.” I laughed through my tears, my joke falling flat.

Hank let out a weak laugh and explained how the two had been best friends since they were kids. “I love her, I do. I don’t know if this experience gave me the guts to tell her, but it turns out she feels the same. We could have spent the past year together, but instead we were both too afraid to speak up. In a way, I’m almost thankful for having bad luck.”

A single tear made its way down his cheek and he hastily wiped it away. It dawned on me that Hank had probably never shared this with anyone, and I didn’t have anything to say in return. I squeezed his hand once again, hoping that it would show him I understood.

Everything going on with Luke was on the tip of my tongue, ready to come out. Hank and Laurette’s relationship mirrored Luke and mine almost identically. I couldn’t find the words to tell Hank, mainly because I knew how much trouble would come out if I revealed our relationship.

I helped Hank lay down as much as he could in the small cave. Lying with my backpack underneath my head, I curled up beside him. For Hank’s sake as well as my own, I crossed my fingers and wished that we would find Laurette in the morning.


	11. eleven

“Juliet, wake up. We missed the anthem last night.” A cold hand on my shoulder shook me out of my slumber.

“What?” I responded lamely, still groggy from a restless sleep. I quickly sat up as his words registered in my brain. Light filtered through the entrance to our miniature cave, illuminating his anxious face. Hank had his backpack slung over his good shoulder and a sword in the same hand.

“We need to move.” He didn’t wait for a response before he stuck his head out of the crack in the rocks, checking to see if the coast was clear. As he shifted his upper body to fit through the opening, his muffled grunt reminded me of his injury.

“Wait a minute, Hank. I know you’re eager to find Laurette, but you need to let me check your arm. I exited the cave and clipped on my knife belt, which I had taken off last night. I blinked through the pain of the light piercing my eyes, stark in contrast to the darkness of the rock cave.

Hank kept his face impassive and reassured me he was fine, but I could see the red that had seeped through the thick bandage in the middle of the night. I decided not to push further, considering our best bet was to find Laurette and have her look at his wound.

“Alright, let’s get going.” I raised my eyebrows doubtfully but followed Hank nonetheless.

The two of us had been walking for a while before Hank turned to me suddenly. “We need to check the stream where the mutt first attacked us. She could be waiting for us.”

I didn’t argue, but I refused to get my hopes up. Besides, I had no idea where we were in the forest, or how to get back to the stream. I had become disoriented in the darkness last night and had no idea which way was North or South. Fortunately, Hank seemed to have some idea and walked purposely forward in a set direction.

“Are you hungry?” I broke the comfortable silence between us and swung my back pack around so it was in front of me. It was a stupid question-everyone in the Hunger Games was hungry. But although that was a well-known fact, Hank stubbornly shook his head. I rolled my eyes and decided I liked Hank better when he wasn’t playing the hero.

“Come on, you need to eat something. You won’t be any use to Laurette if you’re dead from hunger.” I put it bluntly, attempting to get Hank to take the dried fruit from my outstretched hand.

He put it in his mouth, chewing slowly. “We need meat. We’ll go hunting later.”

The lanky boy ahead of me stopped suddenly, causing me to bump into him from behind. “It’s around here somewhere, if I’m correct.”

We had been walking for hours, so I accepted his words without hesitation. I didn’t doubt his ability to find his way to the stream. Hank was super observant, and I would have been surprised if he didn’t keep good track of the places he’s been in the arena.

“She’ll be there.” He mumbled, mostly to himself.

And she was. Sitting by the stream with her backpack next to her, she gripped her spear so tightly that her knuckles had gone white. Although she seemed to be on high alert, it wasn’t until Hank breathed a sigh of relief that she finally noticed us.

Her body relaxed and she dropped her spear, rushing over to Hank and throwing her arms around his neck. Tears streamed down her face, but Hank brushed them away.

“Thank Panem, I wasn’t ready to lose you.” She beamed, clutching tightly to his shoulders. I made eye contact with her from behind Hank and she stepped back away from him, her smile growing wider.

“You found each other!” She gave me a nod, composing herself, “I was sure I was on my own. Good thing I had the idea to come back here. I was sure Hank would think the same thing, but I was getting worried when you took your damn time getting here.” Her wide eyes twinkled with happiness, but it seemed short lived as she realized our reality.

Her eyes took in Hank’s bloody bandage and she gasped. “What happened?”

“It’s nothing, really. Just a small gash from the mutt.”

I glared at Hank, hating how he was being so casual about it.

“Let me look.” The bubbly brunette demanded, her eyebrows scrunched together in a fierce expression.

“No.” Hank barked. “I said it’s nothing.”

Laurette’s frown deepened and her eyebrows furrowed even more. “Okay.” She responded sharply. Her voice laced with something I couldn’t catch.

With her back to us, she continued her way through the forest. Hank and I followed immediately, not wanting to lose our ally again. I felt awkward among the obvious tension between the pair. It was clear that Laurette was hurt by Hank’s response, and Hank was being too selfless. He didn’t want her to worry about him, but it only made her angry.

I quickened my pace to catch up with Laurette.

“Hey,” I breathed, a little out of breath from the fast pace we had set. “How was your night?”

Her head turned toward me for a split second before setting her gaze straight. “Uneventful.” Her voice came out harsh, but her expression immediately turned apologetic.

“I’m sorry it’s just that, Hank and I-”

“I understand, Laurette, he told me everything. You do realize he just wants to keep you safe and not worried about him. Hank would do anything to protect you, don’t forget that.”

After a moment’s hesitation, she nodded slowly. “I know.”

I placed a hand on Laurette’s arm and turned around to wait for Hank to catch up. Once he saw that we were waiting, he sped up his pace to reach us faster.

A muffled thud came from behind me and I whipped around, only to see a small roll of bandages lying on the path ahead. I turned suspiciously to the side, checking to see if either Laurette’s or my backpack was open.

I titled my head upward and scanned the trees for any sign of movement. I opened my mouth to speak, but instantly cut myself off when I heard a twig snap from straight above. My head snapped upward once again and I made eye contact with another tribute.

Instantly, I recognized him as Moe’s district partner, Alan. My whole body tensed, but I felt frozen. The look in his eyes gave me suspicion that he wasn’t the same boy he had been before the arena.

Time slowed. Alan flung himself from the tree, a long knife clutched in his skinny fingers. Laurette and Hank whipped around, eyes wide in surprise as the District Three tribute came at them with a knife.

Alan tackled Hank as the latter stepped in front of Laurette. The two hit the ground hard, rolling away from Laurette and me.

Laurette shrieked, bringing me back from my initial shock. I whipped a knife out of my belt and snapped my wrist. The silver blade reflected the glare of the sun. It was ironic how something so deadly could look so beautiful as it flew through the air.

The knife found its mark. The blade buried itself deep in the back of Alan’s head, looking fake like something out of a comic film.

A canon sounded, and immediately, everything went still. Alan’s body was unmoving on top of Hank and Laurette was frozen in shock beside me. The only sound was Hank’s heavy breathing as he pushed Alan’s skinny frame off of himself.

Laurette snapped out of her stupor and knelt to the ground beside Hank. I saw blood, but I was unsure if it was Alan’s or Hanks.

“Pass me my backpack, Juliet.” She demanded, surprisingly calm as she slowly pulled Alan’s knife out of Hank’s side. His breathing was shallow, and his face was white. I stood off to the side as Laurette hovered over her district partner, cleaning and stitching up his wound the best she could.

“You’re going to be fine.” She told Hank with such conviction that even I believed it. All three of us looked up as we heard a quiet tinkling. A sponsor gift had landed next to Laurette. It was a small package with a giant number Ten written on the side.

Inside was a small bottle of pills. Without bothering to read the label, Laurette popped them into Hank’s mouth and forced him to swallow.

“Let’s get him somewhere for the night.” She turned to me with an expressionless face.

“I’m guessing a tree is off limits?” I bit my lip, unsure of where we could stay for the night. I hadn’t seen any places nearby that would provide protection, and I doubt Hank could make it far enough to find a better spot.

She shook her head and pointed to a line of thick bushes to our left. “We’re going to have to make that work. If we place some branches around it, it may cover us enough that no one will see us in the dark.”

We helped Hank to a spot between the bushes where he would be most shielded. Then, we set to work making our shelter for the night.

“I’ll take first watch. Just make sure Hank is okay.” My voice quivered, but it wasn’t because of the chill that had started to set in. Laurette responded with a nod then slipped between the bushes without saying a word. It made me sad to think that the quirky Laurette was gone, and in her place was a quiet girl, changed by the Hunger Games like the rest of us.

The sky darkened quickly and soon the anthem began the play. The only face shown in the sky was Alan’s. His frightened-yet sane-expression shown in his picture contrasted deeply with the broken boy who I we saw today.

I didn’t enjoy having time to think. Being alone with my thoughts gave me time to reflect on everything that I tried to push deep down. I was officially a murder. At least the second time was justified. _Almost._ Alan had attacked Hank, and my ally would probably be dead if I didn’t do what I did, but I still wasn’t fast enough to keep Hank from being hurt. Well, at least more than he was already.

Laurette’s shaky laugh reached my ears and I noticed their hushed whispers. After hearing an ‘I love you’, I decided to stop listening in on their private conversations.

It didn’t help much, though, because my thoughts landed on Luke.

God, I missed him so much. Was he watching me right now? Probably. As a mentor, he had a constant video stream of his tributes whether they were being broadcasted or not. I wiped away a tear and quietly laughed at myself.

Before I was reaped, I rarely cried. Even when Luke was in the arena, I spent more time being angry at the Capital than upset. The Hunger Games had made me more sensitive to my emotions, even though I was abandoning any morals I previously held.

I forced my thoughts away from Luke and began to think strategy. Five of the eleven tributes left were Careers. Or, so I thought. I had never found out whose canon had gone off yesterday, considering I missed the anthem.

Was Atlas still alive? It wouldn’t surprise me if he was. A shiver went through my body at the thought of running into him. I wouldn’t put it past him to murder me as soon as he saw me. I mean, it was frowned upon for tributes to kill their district partner, but it was clear Atlas wouldn’t have any qualms about putting a knife through my heart. 

And there was Moe. Although we weren’t allied, I still hoped that she was alive. I couldn’t bear the thought of her small body mangled by some Career or mutt.

My eyes slowly drifted shut but I forced them open. I was exhausted by today’s events but I refused put us all in danger by falling asleep on watch. My knife twirled slowly in my cold hands as I scanned the dark forest.

The sudden blast of the canon caused me to shoot upright, scratching my face on branches in the process. My heart beat began to slow, but I jumped again when Laurette pushed her way into our small shelter.

“Is Hank okay?” Her eyes were wide with fear, mirroring mine as we looked toward our ally.

His eyes were shut and his pale face looked peaceful. If we hadn’t just heard the canon, we wouldn’t have thought twice about the fact that he may not be sleeping.

Laurette crawled slowly over to him and placed a hand on his cold face.

“Is he…?” I trailed off unable to say it out loud. Laurette hesitantly nodded, tears brimming. She opened her mouth to say something, but she couldn’t speak.

I sat in silence, feeling like an awful person. Maybe if I had done something different, we wouldn’t be in this position. But that was a stupid thought. Hank had sacrificed himself and done everything he could to keep Laurette alive, and it was his choice to die a noble death. I was torn between letting Laurette mourn in peace and giving her tough love. If we didn’t clear out now, the hovercraft would alert other tributes of our location. But, I couldn’t bear the thought of tearing Laurette away. Fortunately, she made the decision for me. 

“We should go.” Laurette sniffled, wiping away her tears with the sleeves of her arena suit. Once outside of our old shelter, she straightened up and narrowed her eyebrows. Her expression was hard, and I knew from that moment on that she wouldn’t be the same as she was before the arena. Not that it really mattered; everyone changed in the arena. It was a reality that you couldn’t escape.

The more I thought about, the more I realized that Luke was one of the lucky ones. He may be mentally scarred, but at least he kept his sanity.

The rest of the morning was spent in silence. Laurette hadn’t said a word and there was nothing I could do to make this any less painful.

We trudged on, taking small sips from our newly filled canteen. There was no purpose to our direction; we had no specific location in mind. I think we had both silently agreed to just get as far away as possible, if not out of the forest completely.

“Look what we have here!” The young, innocent voice sounded slightly off putting using such a nasty tone. Laurette and I both grasped our weapons as the same time and whipped around.

The small twelve-year-old crouched in front of us with a twisted smile. “I’m all out of weapons, which is such a same. You’ll have to take it easy on me.”

“Get out of here, twerp. We aren’t afraid to kill you.” Laurette shook her spear threateningly, but I could tell she shared the same reserve I did about killing a twelve-year-old.

Mandy tilted her head sideways and pursed her lips. If it weren’t for the crazy gleam in her eye, as well as the dirt and blood coating her body, I would have thought she was cute.

She lunged, and I reacted too quickly. My knife sailed harmlessly above her head and I cursed out loud. Mandy continued to rush toward us and Laurette threw her spear. The weapon barely skimmed her calf, but it slowed her down enough for me to regain my footing just in time.

I ran forward to meet Mandy halfway and wrestled her to the ground. She may have been small, but she was feisty. Her small teeth sunk into my arm, actually tearing through the fabric of my suit and drawing blood. I shrieked and drew back in shock. The smaller girl used my surprise to throw me backwards, using my weight against me. My body rolled uncontrollably down the slight slope before slamming into the base of a tree.

Groaning as my ribs came in contact with the thick trunk, I spotted Laurette frantically searching the ground for her spear.

My ally and my enemy spotted it at the same time, and both lunged for it. They collided in a mess of long, tangled hair and dirt. My hand flew to my knife belt, but I only had a few left and I didn’t want to accidentally hit Laurette.

I heard one of them cry out in pain, but I couldn’t tell who it was. Mandy rolled herself over on top, and I saw the blood covering her hands. The twelve-year-old stood up and turned to me. For a moment I saw a frightened look glaze over her eyes, but it was gone as soon as it came. She took off into the forest and I didn’t have the energy to chase her.

Laurette’s spear was lodged in her stomach, sticking straight up almost comically.

“No, no, no.” I mumbled, rushing over to her. “You can’t leave me this soon. I-I promised Hank I would keep you safe, but I didn’t.” My hands shook uncontrollably but Laurette held them still.

“It’s okay, Juliet, it isn’t your fault. I’m right where I want to be. I get to be with Hank.” Her voice was laced with tears and she reached a hand up to my face.

“I’m going to kill her for doing this to you, I promise. Maybe I can fix it, just let me see it.” I was on the verge of hysterics. We had just lost Hank, and now I was losing the only friend I had in the arena. She shook her head and relaxed her head, her unfocused eyes looking up at the sky

“Please, Juliet.” Laurette whispered as her eyes glazed over. I wanted to be there for her, but I was too selfish for not wanting that image haunting me. I gave her hand one last squeeze before sprinting as fast as I could. Maybe if I ran fast enough, I could put everything behind me. The tributes, the game makers, Luke, and even the arena. But I knew it was impossible. I couldn’t run forever, and I would never be able to escape the Hunger Games.

I slowed to a stop a half hour later, once my legs had gone numb. Surprisingly, I must have reached the edge of the forest. The trees were thinning out, and the ground was beginning to become rocky. An unusual atmosphere hung in the air, making me feel uncomfortable.

Something was off. I wasn’t about to fall into another one of the Gamemakers’ traps. I either had to leave the forest, or stay where I was most comfortable in the arena, no matter how many bad memories went along with it.

It was too late in the day to scout out completely new territory, so I hesitantly turned back the way I came from. The sky seemed to have darkened considerably, although it was only mid-afternoon. An ominous feeling washed over me and I spun around in paranoia.

A shriek echoed through the air. At first I thought it was Laurette, and a warm feeling washed over me. But as it came again, all feeling of happiness left my body and I felt frozen to the core.

My little sister’s scream came a third time and I covered my ears. What had they done to Kit? She was supposed to be safe in District Nine. That was the deal. Only one female tribute goes into the arena, and this year it was me, not her.

I knew it must have been a sick trick by the Gamemakers. I had seen enough tributes driven crazy by Jabber Jays, but it was worse when you were the one in that position.

Luke’s hoarse yell began to replay through the forest, joining Kit’s as they screamed my name together.

“Stop!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. My knees hit the forest floor and I curled up in a ball. I slapped my palms over my ears and did whatever I could to block out the noise, but it continued to echo in my brain.

“Stop!” I sobbed again, but my voice wouldn’t come out louder than a whisper. The stress of the day caused stars to cloud my vision and last thing I remembered was the torturing screams of my love ones as they pleaded my name.


	12. twelve

I woke up shivering. The ground felt unusually hard beneath me, and my limbs were cramped from the fetal position I fell asleep in. Unfortunately, I was too numb to feel anything else except for my hands clamped firmly against my ears.

I untangled myself and felt an eerie chill that had seemed to settle over the forest. The difference in temperature was clear. The Gamemakers had undoubtedly decided to increase our suffering, as if putting twenty four kids together to fight to the death wasn’t enough.

It was dark, and it was quiet. The Jabber Jays had gone silent and there was no sound. No indication of life except for my own hands in front of me, barely visible in the dark. Suddenly, the danger of my position dawned on me. The sense of danger chilled me to the bone, along with the feeling of loneliness. For the first time in the arena, I was completely alone, with no allies to search for. I realized that the drop in temperature wasn’t the only reason I was shivering.

The chiming of the anthem jolted me out of my stupor. I thought the anthem had passed while I was sleeping, but it must have gotten dark only seconds before I woke up. Although I knew I was out in the open, I couldn’t bring myself to move as I watched the deceased tributes appear in the sky.

I prepared myself for Laurette’s face in the sky. What I wasn’t expecting to see what the fierce glare of Essie from Four. If I wasn’t in the arena myself, I would have bet on her to be the victor. Had the other Careers teamed up to take her out? If so, had her district partner went along with it? I wasn’t sure if her death relieved me or if it made me more worried about what I would be facing in the upcoming days.

Hank’s face appeared next. My breath hitched in slight surprise, even though I had been there when it happened. It seemed like forever since the three of us were together, but it had barely been a day. I counted his death on day four, but I had forgotten that it was after yesterday’s anthem. Laurette’s face appeared next, but I somehow managed to contort my face back into a passive expression in case the cameras were on me.

I couldn’t be weak anymore. For Kit, my parents, and Luke, I would put on a brave face and fight. It would be too selfish to wish for death at this point. I would be free from all of this, but I knew it would tear apart everyone I cared about. My parents would probably be able to deal. They would be hoping for me to come back, but when my name was reaped, they probably knew it would be a death sentence. And I didn’t blame them.

Kit would be torn apart. She would expect me to come home, even though she knew just as well as I did that I probably wouldn’t.

Then there was Luke. Going through the Hunger Games was awful. Something no one should have to go through. But, being a victor seemed worse. You had to live with the memories. You also had to live with all the new shit thrown at you by the Capital, along with mentoring tributes that you were helpless to protect once they were in the arena. Call it whatever you want, but it was cruel to force a victor to watch their tributes die year after year. Nine didn’t have many victors, so it was going to be Luke’s responsibility for a long time.

I brought myself back to reality and quickly packed up my things. I had a decent amount of supplies, but I lost most of it along with my allies. Thankfully, the windbreaker I got in the pack from the first day was still buried at the bottom of my bag. It didn’t completely warm me up, but it helped. Besides, I didn’t know how long it would be until I was able to make a fire.

Following my usual routine, I scaled a tree and strapped myself in for another sleepless night. Tomorrow, I would play the Capital’s game. I was already a murderer, what difference would it make if I made a few more kills? If it meant I could get out of here alive, then so be it.

I didn’t like this new mind set, but it was necessary. The will to live was too strong to deny, and I was giving in. Everyone did, eventually.

\--

My toes were cold. The numbing pain wasn’t that bad, but I let it consume me. It helped block out the other stuff- the stuff that really mattered.

The plan was to scout out the arena, and hopefully find the Careers. I wasn’t stupid. I couldn’t take them out on my own, but a little spying wouldn’t hurt.

The forest melted into a rocky surface and I knew I was getting close either the mountain or the cliff with the Cornucopia. I hadn’t bothered to climb up high enough to check, and frankly, I didn’t care. Nowhere was safe in the Hunger Games.

After walking for at least three hours, the tree line came to an abrupt stop and the rocks gave way to an ocean. The placed seemed somewhat familiar, and I realized I must be near the Cornucopia. I had run this way on the first day, alongside the forest for a while.

I was wary to step out from under the trees; I would be completely visible to any other tribute walking along. I decided I would stay within the tree line, but follow along the edge until I reached the Cornucopia. Hunger and thirst settled in, and I was forced to take a break. I still had one full canteen of water but it wouldn’t last long. I nibbled on the last of the dried fruit and refrained myself from eating the rest of the nuts. At this rate, I would run out by tomorrow.

Pushing aside my worries, I used a stick to create a crude drawing of the arena in the dirt. From what I had seen, the entire Arena was a giant plateau. Around the entire plateau was an ocean, presumably with a few islands. The Cornucopia was off to the side, resting on the edge of the steep rock wall that we had been forced to climb up. The small, strip of rock connected the Cornucopia area to the rest of the plateau, which consisted mostly of the forest. The mountain was on the opposite side of the forest, and I knew it would be at least a day’s walk to reach it. I couldn’t be sure how many tributes were hiding out there, but it probably wasn’t many. Something in my gut told me that it was planned for the grand finale of the games.

Carefully, I studied the drawing in the dirt. If I wanted to survive, I needed supplies. The only way I could get that was through sponsor gifts or the Cornucopia. Since my breakdown during the Jabber Jay episode, I doubted I would be seeing a silver parachute anytime soon. So, the Cornucopia it was. Straight into Career territory.

I stabbed at the dirt with the blunt stick, getting rid of any traces of my drawing. Feeling rested yet on edge, I continued my journey.

It wasn’t long until I reached the corner of the forest. It was odd how unnatural it was. The forest was literally square shaped, and I stood right at the corner. Ocean to my right, Cornucopia in front of me.

The skinny rock bridge that separated the forest and the Cornucopia didn’t seem as long as it had on the first day. I resisted the urge to make a break for it, and instead climbed up the nearest tree. The Careers could still be in the Cornucopia and it would mean sure death for me to run across the open bridge.

I desperately hoped the Careers were still camped at the Cornucopia. Of course, it would make getting supplies much more difficult, but if they had already cleared out then they would have taken their food and weapons with them, leaving me with nothing.

I peeked out from between the thin branches once I got high enough. Sure enough, four tributes sat near the Cornucopia, a fire burning between them. I heard faint shouting, and I realized the fifteen-year-old, Aida, from District Two was shoving the male from District Four. The male from District Two moved to break it up, his tall frame matching Aida’s and towering over Gordon from Four. Cliff, the Career who had gotten a six, sat off to the side, watching the fight with a passive expression.

Gordon’s voice seemed to echo in the arena as he yelled at Aida.

“You can’t kill my District partner and expect me not to get angry!” They were talking about Essie. I wasn’t surprised Gordon had snapped.

“We lost our sponsors because of you. It’s only day six. No sponsors want to see the Career pack split this early. And no sponsors want to see some fifteen-year-old stab their favorite tribute just because she was mad about being put on guard duty.” Gordon seemed eerily composed, although he continued to jab his finger into Aida’s chest as he made his point. Aida’s district partner held her back as she growled in Gordon’s face. The fight eventually died down, yet both Careers remained tense.

I looked up at the sky, absorbed in thought. If the Career’s had lost their sponsors, then the money must have been going elsewhere.

I wouldn’t be surprised if Moe had a decent amount of sponsors. I didn’t think the brute from Seven would have many, especially after he snapped his young district partner’s neck. No doubt, a majority of the sponsors would be going to Atlas and the little psycho from five. They would be blinded by Atlas’ good looks and similarity to Luke. Not that I would ever admit that to my mentor.

Technically, Luke could be using Atlas’ sponsor money for me. It’s up to the mentors how they split the sponsor money between their tributes. Most choose the tribute that was most likely to succeed. It hurt to think that there was a possibility that Luke had chosen Atlas over me.

Just then, a silver parachute landed in the tree a few feet above me. On further inspection, the parachute contained a pair of night vision goggles. I almost laughed out loud. Luke knew exactly what I was thinking.

I knew the goggles weren’t that expensive; it was actually a common gift for tributes to receive at this stage of the game. But they were worth my life.

The sun began to set over the horizon, and I sat back and waited for night to fall. It was risky, but I knew what I had to do. I needed to take out the Careers when they were least prepared.

\--

My eyes drooped from lack of sleep. The sun had set hours ago, but I was waiting for the right moment. The Careers were taking turns on watch, and I couldn’t over power Gordon or District 2. I had to wait for Cliff, their weakest link. I received a higher training score than he did, but that didn’t make my idea any less foolish. I knew this would be a long shot, but it was worth the risk. It seemed like a good idea, like the only option, but I hoped that my time in the arena wasn’t making me crazy.

Al eventually woke up Cliff and settled down in a sleeping bag. I didn’t know how long it would take for him to fall asleep, so I waited as long as possible.

The forest was silent as I dropped to the ground. As soon as I landed, I took off, sprinting out from the trees and across the rock bridge, the goggles secure on my face. A knife in each of my hand, I quietly made my way to the Cornucopia, where the Careers were foolishly sleeping on the other side. Why they had set camp up in a spot where they couldn’t see the only entrance and exit to their camp, I didn’t know. But they were about to pay the price.

I mustered up whatever confidence I had left and slipped out from the shadows. I poised my knife in the air, ready to throw it straight at Cliff’s heart.

Instead, I was met with a surprising scene. Cliff was kneeling over Aida, oblivious to my presence. Before I could blink, he slit her throat. He moved on to Al and repeated his actions. District Two’s cannons went off, shocking Gordon out of his sleep. Before Cliff had a chance to draw his knife across his throat, Gordon sprang up and tackled Cliff to the ground.

In the dark, both tributes were disoriented. With my night vision goggles, I could clearly see what was happening, but I was too scared to move.

Gordon had the clear disadvantage, being weaponless and disoriented from sleep, but he earned a nine for a reason. He had Cliff pinned underneath him, but the weaker Career had a knife in his hand. He kneed Gordon in the stomach, momentarily throwing his former ally off of him. He lunged at the first opportunity and stabbed his knife into Gordon’s chest.

Unable to help myself, I gasped, capturing Cliff’s attention. His gaze met mine, and I was surprised to see his expression was as shocked as mine.

Gordon’s cannon went off, snapping Cliff and I out of our daze. He took one look at the knives in my hand before taking off, running across the rock bridge and into the forest with only a small bag on his back.

Was I that menacing that I scared off a Career? Or was Cliff just an unusually weak Career? He was a coward. Although I was prepared to do the same thing myself- slit their throats while they slept- they were his allies, even if it was just a temporary alliance. To top it off, he ran from a tribute half his size.

The sun was rising fast, and I knew I had to move on so the hovercrafts could take the bodies. I rummaged through their pile of supplies, shocked to see how much food was there. They must have had generous sponsors if they had this much, so I could only imagine why Gordon was so upset that they lost them.

I grabbed everything I could fit in my backpack, including first aid items. I found a thicker jacket and pulled it on over my windbreaker, feeling warmer already. It would only get colder, and it seemed weird to think that I was sweating a few days ago.

By the time I had finally finished sorting through the supplies, the sun was high in the sky and my fingers were numb from the cold air. My night vision goggles were hanging uselessly around my neck and I stuffed them into my backpack. I turned to run back into the forest, but I caught my reflection in the shiny Cornucopia. My face was a mess; smudges of dirt and blood cover my cheeks and forehead. I couldn’t even remember where it had come from. My long ponytail was caked with blood and there was a large cut across my hairline. No wonder Cliff had run away from me. I looked crazier than Mandy.

I looked down at my body and examined my arena suit. The supposedly wonderful suit made with material from the capital had small rips and tears everywhere from climbing trees.

I held my hands out in front of me. No, not my hands. _A murderer’s hands_. But I guess that’s who I had become.

My eyes shifted upward and I squinted against the sun. I could almost picture Luke’s scowl, looking out of place on his handsome face.

_Get a move on it, Juliet._

I took off into a sprint.


	13. thirteen

Seven days, six tributes left. I hadn’t really thought about it, but I suppose it was time for them to conduct the final eight interviews. Except there would only be six, since the number of tributes went from nine to six rather quickly.

My parents, Kit, and maybe some friends from school would be interviewed. Would Luke? I doubted it. Most of District 9 knew we were friends, but I don’t think that knowledge existed outside of our district. Luke was also my mentor, so he might be interviewed anyway.

Seven days. A week had gone by in the arena, and already we were down to the final six. The Capital wouldn’t like it. Sure, there was probably a lot of “excitement”, but they usually preferred the games to last over two weeks. Anyone who has ever watched the Hunger Games would expect there to be a big finale.

I was back in the forest. I was naturally drawn here, where I was most comfortable. Besides, there was nowhere else to go. There was nothing to do except blindly stumble around until I came across another tribute. Then, it was kill or be killed.

My stomach was no longer growling. I had my first decent meal in weeks, and strangely enough, I owed it to Cliff. I also tended to most of my injuries, and it turned out I had a lot more than I thought. I assumed the adrenaline blocked out most of the pain I felt.

Most of the morning was spent getting away from the Cornucopia. I didn’t realize the mistake I made until it was too late; I should have left before the sun had risen. I could have been easily spotted by another tribute, and they could be tracking me right now. That thought made me hobble faster through the trees. I was hindered by my newly bandaged knee, which I had scraped against the rocks on the first day. I hadn’t paid it much attention, which was stupid of me in hindsight. I got pain medication from the Cornucopia, but I didn’t want to look weak. Another stupid mistake on my part.

I stopped in the middle of the forest and pulled my pack around to the front, thinking I could quickly pop in a pill to get me through the rest of the day. I let my guard down for a second and next thing I knew, I was grabbed from behind.

My shriek echoed throughout the forest and I began to thrash uselessly against my captor. The knife belt was unsnapped from my waist and it fell to the ground, out of my reach. I silently cursed myself for not holding at least one in my hand. Had I learned nothing from watching the Hunger Games?

“Shh, calm down Julsey. It’s just me.” Atlas’ breath was hot against my ear. His words didn’t comfort me, but instead made me thrash even harder. I bit down hard on his arm, causing him to pull away in shock. I fell to the ground, my knee burning as it hit first. My fall reopened the scab on my forehead and blood began to trickle down my face. I scrambled forward, putting as much distance between me and my attacker as possible. I heard the crunch of leaves underneath his feet as he stepped toward me and cursed under his breath.

I kicked my leg out hard, feeling satisfied when I connected with his ankles and knocked his feet out from underneath his large body. While he was distracted, I blindly pawed at the ground, trying to find my knives while wiping the blood away from my eyes.

“Want to play hard to get? I see how it is. Trying to put on a good show.” He was on his feet quicker than I anticipated and stood over me.

I wouldn’t be able to run, not with my freshly injured knee. The only option was to fight, but not without my knives. I could certainly try, but I would never be able to beat Atlas in a fist fight. My fingers had previously been numb from the cold, but now my entire hands felt completely frozen. I crawled forward quickly to gain time, but I wasn’t fast enough. He grabbed my leg and yanked me backward. I yelped in shock but was able to throw up my good leg and kick him in the face.

His nose was gushing blood, but he didn’t even flinch. Rough hands grabbed me by the waist and lifted me off the ground, my feet kicking pathetically. Luke had picked me up multiple times before, but only in a playful way. Atlas was much more threatening, and I felt like a ragdoll in his hands. He threw me against the tree and I slammed into it hard, my vision going fuzzy. A loud crack sounded as I contacted with the trunk, and I wasn’t sure if it was the tree or my head.

The back of my hair felt wet, and I grimaced. All complex thoughts escaped my mind and I felt like jelly. My head lolled to the side and my legs gave out from underneath me. Atlas picked me up by the collar and slammed me against the tree once again, this time holding me up so we were face to face.

“How’s the arena treating you? I have to admit, I didn’t think I’d see you in the final eight.” His tone teased me, but I couldn’t formulate words to respond. His face was fuzzy in front of me and the world went in and out of focus. The only thing I was able to get out was a loud groan, and that only made him grin wider.

“Too bad your pretty face is covered in blood. I want everyone to get a good look at you right now. All weak and pathetic.” He sneered, his face full of malice, but the excited glint in his eyes portrayed how much he was enjoying having the upper hand.

“Why are you doing this? What happened to respecting your district partner?” I was finally able to respond, until he slammed me into the tree once again. I felt nauseous, and his response sounded far away. There was an unspoken rule in my district, and probably in most others too. Always stick with your district partner above all else. If you didn’t have an alliance with them, the least you could do was avoid them in the arena. I had claimed he was psychotic since our first interaction, but I was hoping that it was just his way of coping with the trauma of the games. Unfortunately, it seemed that I was right. There is no way he felt any sort of empathy. Would he ever have revealed his true self back in Nine?

“Because I don’t care about home, if you can even call it that. Once I’m Victor, I’ll never have to go back there again. Everyone there was so content with their pathetic little lives. It made me sick.” His eye brows furrowed, and I could tell he was getting angrier. I wasn’t able to respond, but I wanted to tell him how sick he was. “I never thought of volunteering for the Hunger Games, I didn’t’ have a death wish, but when I was reaped I realized how great of an opportunity this was. And you aren’t getting in my way.” He continued on his rant, and I began to see double.

“I bet your boyfriend is loving this. I’m going to have to make this good, just for him. Don’t you want matching scars?” He pulled out once of the knives from my belt and flipped it over in his fingers, the other hand still holding me against the tree. Even if he wasn’t holding me too tight to escape, my focus was terrible and my limbs felt like the Jell-O I got to try back in the Capitol. I wouldn’t make it very far.

The twisted smirk never left his face as he brought the knife down on my forearm. I didn’t care what he did to me, but I cared that he brought up Luke. Like my mentor had told me on the train, we couldn’t let anyone find out how close we were. I didn’t want the Capitol to have any more hold over him than they already did.

I narrowed my eyes, silently daring him to bring up Luke again. He continued to smirk, as if he knew exactly what he was doing. He took the knife and traced it across my collar bone. The sight of bright red blood, _my_ blood, on the knife made me sick. I finally screamed out in agony, no longer able to keep it in. I wanted to bury the knife into Atlas’ forehead myself, but I felt paralyzed. So this was how it was going to end? My own district partner cutting me up until I dropped dead?

The world was dark- so much darker than it should have been. I wanted to say something, but the thoughts went as soon as they came. For the second time in my life, I felt completely helpless. The first would be the entire month Luke was in the arena, and I could do nothing but watch him on screen.

 _Luke._ I tried to mumble his name. Why couldn’t he save me? Why couldn’t he do something? I prided myself on being strong and independent, but I couldn’t help myself at this point.

Everything went blank.

\--

**Luke’s P.O.V.**

It was much harder than he thought it would be. Scratch that: it was near impossible. When her name was called during the reaping, his heart leapt to his throat. He couldn’t stand to be around her in the Capital; for fear that he would do or say something he would regret.

Not that keeping his distance did anything to help. It only made her angry and him regretful. Then, that night before the arena, when he did something he swore he would never after he became a victor

He kissed her. Not knowing what else to do, he ran away after without saying anything. And she only hated him more.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to kiss her, because he _did_. But he was scared for what would come after that. Before he went into the Hunger Games, he didn’t realize how much he cared for her. When he came back to District 9 as a Victor, he avoided her at all costs.

What was he supposed to say? _Hey Juliet, I’m back now, and I think I really, really like you. Probably a lot more than I should._

No, he couldn’t put her through that. It would be selfish of him to pull her back into his life at the most dangerous time. Although he hated himself for being so oblivious to his feelings before, it was for the best. He couldn’t let the President have her.

So, he did what any other stupid boy would do, and he ignored her. His plan backfired when his resolve crumbled, and they became friends again.

Now that Juliet was the one in his place, he distanced himself once again.

The first day she was in the arena, he almost had a heart attack every time a weapon came near her. But she handled it like a pro, and it scared him a little. That gleam in her eye as she killed her first tribute reminded him of himself. The other mentors in the lounge glanced at him suspiciously, but they knew he was a first time mentor. He had no idea how they handled the death of their tributes so gracefully. It must have been years of practice.

Luke didn’t _want_ to her to come back alive. She was better off dead. Life as a Victor was a worse fate than death. He hadn’t told her about anything he went through, because he hoped she would never have to find out.

But Juliet pushed on, earning more and more sponsors each time she made it through another life or death situation.

Day Five came around, and he watched her break down at the loss of her allies. Luke tensed up as he watched her crumple to the ground in a vain attempt to avoid the Jabber Jays. but he managed to keep his cool. Suddenly, the eyes of the other mentors were on him again, and Luke didn’t understand why. It wasn’t until after she finally regained consciousness that the realization made his blood run cold.

They had mimicked his voice with the Jabber Jays. Jabber Jays weren’t always a staple in the arena, but they were used often enough that everyone had caught on to the fact that they mimicked the voices of the tribute’s closest friends and families. The Gamemakers knew that he meant more to her than just a mentor. That meant Snow knew too.

He hoped that he wasn’t the reason she was reaped, but the nagging feeling in the back of his mind told him the truth. He spent so much time avoiding her, and to no avail. That thought alone caused bile to rise in his throat, and he put his head in his hands until the other mentors finally turned their attention away from him.

Day Six wasn’t much better. He could tell she felt abandoned by him so he had to do something. On a whim, he sent her night vision googles. This time, the other mentors wouldn’t let it go. Finnick walked by and ruffled Luke’s hair but he was too focused on the screen to swat him away. The slightly older boy was teasing him for his lack of control, but his green eyes portrayed a deeper understanding and empathy for Luke’s position. Barrick was seated next to him, surprisingly sober, lecturing him on his usage of sponsor money.

Day Seven, he snapped. It started out the same as usual, the aching pain in his gut as he watched Juliet trudge through the forest. Nothing seemed unusual, so he took a break to grab a snack from the table laid out for the mentors. He hadn’t slept in days, if the bags under his eyes were any indication, but he needed to eat if he wanted to help Juliet.

Luke turned a large orange over and over in his hands, taking his time getting back to his station. The mentors who had already lost their tributes sat around on the couches surrounding a giant screen that broadcasted what was being shown to all of Panem. Despite popular opinions, most of the mentors were friends, or at least tolerated each other.

Barrick called for Luke, his tone uneasy. Luke almost tripped over his feet hurrying back to his mentor station, but it turned out he had no need. Juliet was being broadcasted onto the big screen, and he stopped in his tracks. The other mentors turned to him warily. Chaff from Eleven placed a hand on Luke’s shoulder.

They all watched as Atlas grabbed her from behind. Luke remained silent, but gripped the orange tighter in his hands. She fought hard, but with her injured knee, she wasn’t able to get away from him.

Every time she was slammed into the tree, his vision turned red. Every cut made on her body, his knuckles got whiter. Every taunt Atlas made, Chaff’s hand gripped him tighter, supporting him before he snapped.

It was the last words that came out of her mouth that got him. He could tell she was on the verge of passing out. Her speech was slurred and mumbled, but he heard what she said. Everyone heard it, confirming what they already knew.

“ _Luke_ ,” She cried out.

He turned toward the wall and through the orange as hard as he could. With a loud crash, he swept half the dishes of the snack table that sent the Avoxes scampering. Shards of glass covered his hands, but the pain in his fingers wasn’t even comparable to the nauseous feeling that took over his whole body. Luke crumpled to the ground and brought his knees up to his chest.

“It’s my fault.” He repeated over and over again to the hands that began to try and pull him up off the ground.

A canon went off.


	14. fourteen

Snow. Small, pure white flurries floated down from the sky, melting into the ground and sticking to my cheek. The sky above me was a light grey, but everything felt pure. Cold, but pure.

“You’re awake.” A voice called from far away, but I heard footsteps getting closer. Was I awake?

For a second, I had thought I had moved on. Gone to Heaven, or whatever was in the After Life. But on a second look, I noticed the sky was not pure and the snow was not innocent, but instead menacing and foreboding. A product of the Capitol.

“You are awake, aren’t you?” The voice questioned again, this time more hesitant. I wiggled my fingers, testing to see if I could still move. My body felt frozen, but I managed to sit up.

Every part of my body protested, but nothing was worse than the throbbing in the back of my head. I reached back, feeling a tight bandage wrapped around my head.

Moe came into my line of vision, her blonde ringlets wild and dusted with snow. Her nose was red from the cold, but her bright eyes were filled with fire. At thirteen, she looked even more mature than she did before the arena. A bow and quiver was strapped to her back and she had a knife slack in her hand.

“I…” My voice came out hoarse and I didn’t know what to say to the girl in front of me.

“A thank you would be nice.” Moe responded very sarcastically, as if she was reading my mind. I frowned, my hand still on the back of my head.

“What happened?” I asked suspiciously, but I made no move to threaten her. I felt that I could trust Moe, even though I knew she would kill me if it meant she could go home to her family.

“Well, I found Atlas cutting you up against a tree, and I shot him.” She held up her bow, her face impassive. I guessed that it may not have been the first kill that she made in the arena.

“Is that how you got your nine?” I raised an eyebrow, but Moe didn’t answer. Instead, she walked past me. I shifted my body to find her crouching down in front of a huge backpack, rummaging through it. The bottle of pills she took out rattled slightly and I tensed up, my natural instinct taking over when I heard the sudden noise.

The blonde made her way back over to me and held out a few pills in her grubby hand. I took them gratefully and swallowed without pausing to think if they were poisoned or anything. If she wanted me dead, I wouldn’t be here right now.

“You can rest for tonight, eat something, but then we have to move.” Her tone was so matter of fact that I remained silent, letting the young girl boss me around. A million questions were flying through my head, but I couldn’t decide where to start.

“No one else besides Atlas is dead.” She doesn’t beat around the bush, but begins to tell me what I missed while drawing lines in the snow with a twig.

“The boy from District One, the twelve-year-old from Five, the big guy from Seven, me, and you are the only ones left.” Moe draws five lines in the snow, one for each tribute.

“The guy from one took out the entire career pack in their sleep, I saw it happen. And the twelve-year-old is psychotic. I haven’t run into Seven, though.”

Moe’s eyes get wide, surprised by the news. “I did have a run in with Mandy, so I knew she was off the charts. I also had to get away from Seven, but I did get him in the leg.” At this, she holds up one of her arrows before placing it back carefully. “But I didn’t know what happened to the Careers. One seemed like the weak link, so I’m surprised.”

I winced, remembering the stoic look on his face while he slit the throats of his allies in their sleep. “He took one look at me and ran, so I don’t think it would be too hard to take him out, although he still is a Career. He was probably desperate and knew he would be the next to go if he stuck around with the pack. It seemed like they fell apart pretty early on.”

Moe agreed. Silence fell over us, and I shut my eyes to block out the falling snow.

Sometime later, I woke up shivering. The snow was still falling and was gathering on the ground in an unnaturally perfect way. My new ally, or whatever we were, sat beside me, her head tilted upward at the darkening sky.

The anthem blared, but no faces were shown in the sky. It was the end of my eighth day in the arena. I had been in this death trap for only a week, but it felt like months had passed. Unlike last year’s games which lasted about a month, I knew that we wouldn’t be in the arena for too much longer. With only three other tributes besides Moe and I, it would only be a matter of time before the Gamemakers forced us all together in a grand finale.

Moe stifled a yawn beside me, and a frown etched onto my face. “You must be super tired. I don’t mind taking watch for a little, you should get some sleep while you can.” She hesitated, but it didn’t take long for her resolve to completely diminish.

“Okay, but wake me up if you start to feel dizzy or something. You’ve got a nasty wound on your head.” I promised her I would, but Moe wasn’t finished. “You’ve got a bad cut on your collar bone too. There are others, but that one’s probably going to scar.” She shrugged before snuggling down into a sleeping bag, which she told me earlier was found in Atlas’ bag. I fingered the thick bandage on my shoulder, as well as one on my forearm.

“Don’t fall asleep.” She warned before turning her back toward me and remaining quiet for the rest of the night.

\--

“Watch your step.” Moe warned, her hand clamped onto my arm and helping me through the thick snow. The snow had not gotten heavier, but it continued to fall at the same speed and had collected overnight. Our thin suits were not made for snowy conditions and I found myself numb to the bone, even with the multiple layers I had acquired throughout the week.

“What’s the plan?” I questioned, looking toward Moe for assurance. It was almost humorous how I resorted to taking orders from a girl four years young than me.

“We keep walking. The further we get away from the spot where I killed Atlas, the better.” I nodded, knowing that Moe was right. One of the tributes could have seen where the hovercraft picked up his body, which means that they could be close. Something else registered in my brain, and I turned to Moe with a smirk on my face.

“ _We_?” I questioned her, eyebrows raised. “So we’re officially allies now?”

The fiery blonde scowled, but looked more cute than annoyed. “Something like that.”

Her grip suddenly tightened on my arm and she let out a loud squeal. “You have _got_ to be kidding me.”

It was hard to make out in the snow, but someone was running toward us at full speed. Mandy’s pigtails flew behind her as she charged at us, wielding a knife in front of her.

“I don’t want to fight that thing. _Run_.” I grabbed Moe’s arm and tugged her in a random direction. I let go as soon as I knew she was following me, because it wouldn’t help us go faster if we were holding onto each other. It also wasn’t helping that we each had on two big backpacks of supplies, but I didn’t want to let one go.

On second thought, I decided that focusing on short term survival was the better option. With little protest from Moe, I threw one of my bags to the side. I chose the one that was filled with food, knowing that we still had an entire separate bad of food that could probably get us through the rest of the Games. Moe followed my example, chucking away her bag of bandages. It wasn’t the smartest move, especially since I clearly needed them, but it was better than getting rid of our sleeping bag and catching hypothermia.

Feeling lighter and more motivated, I clenched my frozen fingers and pumped my legs faster. Moe and I probably looked like weaklings to all of Panem; the two of us, armed, running away from a small twelve year old with a single knife.

But one looked at Mandy’s wild eyes and I knew I made the right choice. Moe fell behind, but took the opportunity to turn and shoot an arrow directly at Mandy’s head. Even running, Moe had impeccable aim.

Our pursuer held up her arm to block the arrow, not having time to dive out of the way. It sunk into her arm, but it didn’t even slow down her small form. Moe fumbled for another arrow, but Mandy had already crossed the rest of the distance between them and tackled her to the ground.

I was torn between fight and flight, but I decided not to abandon my new ally. Mandy attempted to sink her knife into Moe’s shoulder, but the latter was able to deflect in time so that it only grazed her arm. I threw one of my last few knives and it hit Mandy in the thigh. She rolled off of Moe, moaning like a wounded animal.

I had never seen anyone move as fast as Moe when she got to her feet. She took off like a startled deer, whipping by me in less than a second. Following her lead, I caught up to her in a few strides.

The two of us ran like the wind, snow stinging our cheeks, and I almost felt free.


	15. fifteen

The next morning was colder than the previous. The snow was falling heavier than before, and I could no longer feel my hands. Moe was beside me, getting ready to move. She rubbed her hands together roughly, attempting to get feeling in her fingers, but to no avail. Her small nose was bright red and her cheeks flushed, most likely reflecting my own face.

“We need to keep walking, it’s the only way we can stay warm.” I reasoned, my teeth chattering with every word. Moe nodded, pulling her small jacket tighter around her. The snow storm only made it more apparent that the finale was near. Considering the arena suits given to us by the Capital, we weren’t meant to survive long in this weather.

“I can’t see anything.” Moe furrowed her brows, squinting through the falling snow. 

“I think that’s the point.” I replied, trying for sarcasm but just sounding tired.

We walked together in silence, warier after yesterday’s run in with Mandy. I had no idea where we were headed; I just knew we needed to continue on. The thick trees seemed to be closing in on us and I decided that we were in the very center of the forest. No matter how many times I tried to leave and go to other places in the arena, I always ended up back in the forest. I wasn’t sure whether it was a blessing or a curse.

It was Moe who broke the silence first. “Why did you choose to stay and ally with me?” She questioned, sounding like the curious thirteen-year-old she should be, rather than the killer the Capitol forced her to become.

“Why did you save me from Atlas?” I responded with a question of my own. Her bright eyes looked up at me with an ambiguous expression.

“It just felt like the right thing to do.” Her response was cryptic, and I didn’t press further. I knew first-hand that things happened in the arena that couldn’t be understood. If I were in her place, I would have saved me too. And not just because I was the one who needed saving.

“Okay,” I started, feeling as if it was my turn to answer the question, “I allied with you because you saved my life. Isn’t that obvious?”

Moe shrugged, clearly not satisfied. “But you could have just run off, no questions asked.” The younger girl paused to adjust the heavy bag on her back before resuming the conversation. “And when Mandy attacked us yesterday, you could have just left me on my own. But you didn’t.”

“I wasn’t going to let you die.”

“Juliet, it’s the _Hunger Games_. If one of us is going to win, the other is going to die at some point.” She put words to the uncomfortable tension that had lingered over us for the past few days.

“Yeah, well, let’s not think about that right now.” I managed a smile, attempting to rid Moe of the bitter look on her face. She didn’t respond, choosing to focus on the snow-covered ground.

“You remind me of my sister.” I admitted. My ally looked up at me, eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. I continued, “You both have that bright blonde hair, fiery eyes, and unbreakable spirit.”

Moe smiled at that, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. I must have been stupid, trying to cheer her up when we were being hunted. She walked as if she had lead in her boots, each step dragging more than the previous.

I wondered who she had watching her right now, praying that she would come back alive. I felt conflicted; I obviously wanted to go home to Luke and my family, but I didn’t want Moe to die. I couldn’t imagine going on the victory tour and having to stare into the broken eyes of her family when it could have been her instead of me.

But I knew myself. I knew I was selfish, and I knew I was a coward. If the choice came down to it, I would value my life over hers. Was it so wrong of me to think that? I would get Moe as far as possible, but when the final fight came I knew I would have to leave her. It saddened me and I felt ashamed, but I had a bitter realization that I probably needed her more than she needed me.

A canon blast suddenly echoed through the forest. Both Moe and I froze, watching our breath swirl through the air while we tried to process the information.

Only four left. It sickened me to think that I felt the slightest bit happy at someone’s death, but it meant that I was one body closer to home. Either Mandy or the males from District Seven or One had been killed. In any other circumstance I would have bet that the twelve-year-old was the one killed, but there was definitely doubt in my mind as I thought of the small, psychotic girl who had nearly slaughtered my ally and me.

“Juliet,” Moe broke the silence, although she kept her voice at a whisper. “I need a break. We’ve been walking for ages.”

I shook my head. We couldn’t stop now, it was too light to stop for the night and we needed to make up more distance. It was cruel, pushing a thirteen-year-old through the snow for an entire day but I knew that the finale was near. Sleep wouldn’t even make much of a difference at this point.

“Just a little further,” I protested, scanning her face for signs of extreme exhaustion. Moe was definitely tired, but I knew she had the determination to last for another hour or so. She wearily nodded, compliantly trudging beside me.

The sky was dimming when we came across a fallen tree. Not the greatest place to camp for the night, but if we dug a small hole in the snow underneath it, it could offer some protection from the chill. Moe’s eyelids were drooping, and I sat her on the log, offering her a small ration of the food we had left. She didn’t look thrilled at the small amount to eat, but she knew better than to argue.

Ignoring the numbness of my hands as I dug into the cold ground, I eventually created a small area between the tree and the snow that we could squeeze in for the night. Moe scooted in, closing her eyes instantly and holding herself close as if she could shut herself off from the cold. The sick feeling in my stomach returned again as I saw the small girl in front of me. She was no longer Moe the warrior; she was Moe the small, young girl who was struggling to survive. I turned away and looked up at the sky, unable to bear anymore of the unexplainable guilt that racked my body.

It was stupid to lay out in the open where the cold or any tribute could get to me, but I lost track of time just sitting there. I watched the sky grow dark and felt the cold seep into my bones that the walking had previously kept at bay.

The anthem chimed, jarring me from my catatonic state and finally showing the face of the unfortunate tribute. Although I wasn’t surprised to see the face in the sky, I definitely felt unsettled.

I shook Moe awake. She would have wanted me to tell her right away.

Her eyes shot open, but they were sleepy and unfocused.

“It was Mandy.” I announce softly, and her eyes blink blankly back at me. I knew she understood when she bit her lip and gave me a pained look. I curled up beside her, hoping our closeness would generate some heat.

I briefly remembered the dagger I had buried in Mandy’s leg. Was it me who ultimately killed her, or was it someone else? Something that was useless to worry about but nagged me anyway. I knew I should have stayed awake to keep watch, but as my thoughts drifted off my eyes began to close and I didn’t bother fighting sleep.

\--

**Luke’s POV**

The two girls on screen huddled close together for warmth. The weather in the arena had gotten colder and colder, and it was clear that all the tributes were suffering.

It was the night of Day Ten, going into Day Eleven. The mentors knew that tomorrow would be the beginning of the end. Although the remaining mentors were tense, they could relax tonight knowing the Gamemakers would leave them alone while they prepared for their finale.

Only four tributes left. The games would be short this year, only extending to just under two weeks.

The boy from One sat shivering by the beach. While most people tended to root for the Career tributes, he wasn’t a popular tribute this year. He slit the throats of his fellow Careers in their sleep, cowardly murdering the Capital favorites then running from the tiny girl from Nine. He wasn’t strong, bold, or skilled. He was average, and somewhat of a coward, and no one really expected him to become Victor.

But when fighting for one’s life, people can lose their minds. The young girl from Five was a prime example of that, turning into something that resembled a wild animal in the first few hours of the arena. The boy from One was unpredictable, and no one could know for sure what would happen when the four tributes came together.

The boy from Seven had crammed his muscular body into a nook in the base of the mountain. He held a sword tight in his right hand and a massive axe in his left. The hard glint in his eyes made it clear that he would show no mercy. Breaking his district partner’s neck in the bloodbath was easy for him. He made it clear that nothing would stop him. And so far, nothing had.

Luke sat alone in front of the computer monitor that displayed Juliet’s location and vital signs, watching for any slight change that may show her body shutting down from the cold.

Barrick sat next to him, his head face first on the table in front of them. His quiet snoring was the only sound in the room. Like Luke, the mentors from District One, Three, and Seven sat in front of the computers, taking shifts watching their tributes. But they didn’t care for their tributes, not like Luke did. Every time the brunette shifted in her sleep, he held his breath in anticipation.

Part of him was still healing from his breakdown on day Seven. And maybe it never would. Luke should have been embarrassed at how he handled himself in front of the mentors, but fortunately no one seemed to judge him. For the next few days, they all treated him cautiously and looked at him with pity, which he absolutely hated. Barrick surprisingly stepped up to his role and spent his time watching over Juliet as closely as Luke had been.

Luke thought she _died_ , and even though he came into this knowing it may be inevitable, it hurt more than he could have ever imagined. The former victor knew for sure now that he loved her. It was cliché, but what started out as an innocent friendship at a young age transformed into something he couldn’t even describe.

He couldn’t possibly explain or understand why he didn’t recognize it sooner. It was as if throwing them into this mess broke down a wall that he didn’t know was there, and the feelings hit him like a truck. The look of agony on her face as Atlas bashed her against the tree would never leave his head.

At first, Luke didn’t want her to come back. He didn’t want her to be a Victor. Not if she had to go through what he went through. But now, he was selfish. After he found out how he would feel if she had actually gone, he didn’t want to feel it ever again. He didn’t care if they both had to face this life, at least they would do it together.

Two years ago, he would have laughed at himself for having these cheesy feelings. But that teasing, naïve Luke was gone and would probably never return. Going through the games changed him completely. Dealing with the after effects changed him even more. He was only able to be his old self when he was with Juliet, and then the Capitol had to go and take that away from him.

The sun began to rise in the arena, even though it was still dark in the Capitol. Luke shook Barrick awake, knowing the other mentors probably were doing the same to their partners.

“It’s starting.” Luke’s voice was quiet, tired, and shaky, but his eyes were steady and determined.


	16. sixteen

“Can you believe it’s been ten days in the arena?”

“Eleven, Moe.” I corrected the young girl, having the sudden urge to reach out and caress her snow-covered blonde locks. She didn’t reply, but instead focused on lifting one foot after another out of the heavy snow. The land in front of us seemed like a steady, gradual incline. We were nearing the base of the mountain, but I was hoping to stay away from it. I hadn’t yet been to this area of the arena, and there was bound to be something dangerous at the top.

Barely a second after having this thought, a long howl pierced through the dawn.

 _Great_. Just what we needed, mutts chasing after us. Moe was shaking, but whether it was from cold or fear, I didn’t know. Probably both.

“Pick up the pace.” I ordered my numb feet to go a little faster. Moe stumbled a bit beside me, trying harder to lift her legs higher but not having much success. Feeling nervous, I tugged on her arm. The mutt sounded close.

It was probably unavoidable. I knew the Gamemakers were bound to throw something at us, I just hadn’t expected it to be another mutt. Is that what they wanted their finale to be? Two girls getting ripped apart by a mutt…not even another tribute?

My ears picked up the howl again, and I turned around to see two dark shapes sprinting up the slope behind us. Someone screamed, and I couldn’t even tell which one of us it came from. I didn’t wait around long enough to get a good look, but it seemed to be the same type of mutt that attacked Hank, Laurette, and I. It seemed like ages ago that it happened, but I could clearly remember how terrified I had been when I saw the murderous thing up close.

The Gamemakers were sick. Obviously I knew that before, but experiencing their cruelty first hand really shed light on how terrible they are. The Capitol has amazing technological abilities, yet they use it to harm children for their own entertainment. Imagine how prosperous the districts could become, if only the Capitol would use technology for the good of Panem.

We picked up the pace, but we would never be able to outrun the mutts. Fortunately- or unfortunately, depending on what would be waiting for us on the mountain- the mutts kept their distance, seemingly herding us up the slope.

They weren’t sent to hurt us, but my gut told me we weren’t safe. This was it, the Gamemakers' grand finale. The snow suddenly fell around us more intensely, almost as if they simply turned up a dial. This was probably a correct assumption, and I would have laughed if I weren’t so terrified. The outline of the mountain top before us was hazy, and it was hard to see more than a few yards ahead. My legs burned, and after a side glance at Moe I could tell she was struggling just as much as I was, if not more. My grip on her arm tightened; I was determined not to let her go. I didn’t know what was waiting for us up there, but I would at least get her to the top.

Soon our fast pace turned sluggish, and the mutts behind us seemed closer than before. I hoped that as long as we kept moving, showing that we understood the Gamemaker’s message, the mutts wouldn’t get close enough to attack.

Would the other tributes already be there, forcing us to fight right away? If this was the case, I knew we wouldn’t stand a chance unless the other tributes were just as tired as we were. The District Seven male could easily take us out at the same time, and the District One male wouldn’t be easy either. He had training, and although he may have initially been the weakest of the Career pack, but he was the one still alive and they were not.

My thoughts drifted further as my feet got into a steady rhythm. When had I started thinking in terms of ‘we’ instead of ‘I’? Moe had become a part of my time in the arena, and I wasn’t going to let her die. I didn’t know what I would do if it came down to the two of us, but the chances of that were slim and I couldn’t bear to think about it. Luke wouldn’t approve, but I knew that if he were here in my place he would be feeling the same responsibility towards Moe. At least, the old Luke would, but I wasn’t so sure about the newly hardened ‘victor’ Luke.

There was a time before the 72nd Hunger Games that I had hoped Luke and I’s teasing friendship would turn into something more, but then he was reaped and I thought I would never see him again. When he came back, there was no question that he had become a new person, but I still hung on to the parts of him that hadn’t changed. It wasn’t until we kissed back at the training center that I truly realized what I felt for him the past few years was much more than a childhood friendship. Unfortunately, the Games only complicated things, and I wasn’t sure if they could ever be fixed. Being Victor meant that I would get to see him and my family again, but it also meant the deaths of twenty-three others, including Moe’s.

The hill beneath us suddenly got steeper, and the thudding feet of the mutt’s behind us began to fade further behind.

“Juliet, they’re backing off.” Moe sounded surprised as she came to the same conclusion I had. She looked behind her, brow furrowed in nervousness or confused. My throat felt raw, causing me to wince as I breathed in the frigid air. I let out my breath slowly, watching as it turned visible in front of me. It was almost humorous to think how I had been sweating on the first day.

“They’re forcing us to the top.” I huffed, keeping my explanation short and to the point. I put a hand up, shielding my eyes from the falling snow as I looked up at the darkening sky. “We better make it there unless we want the mutts to come back. And soon, before night.”

Moe nodded in agreement, not bothering to waste precious breath. We continued until our walk turned into more of a climb. The sky got dark quicker than I anticipated, and I frantically looked for somewhere to settle for the night. I had no idea how low the temperatures would go, especially up on the mountain.

It seemed that luck finally went my way when I heard Moe shout from a few yards away.

“I found a cave!”

I could barely see her outline through the snow, but I followed her voice to a snow-covered crevice in the steep mountain side. It was deep enough for both of us to fit comfortably, and the snow by the entrance was thick enough that a tribute passing by wouldn’t notice.

Unless they were looking, or the Gamemakers interfered, but I tried not to think about that.

We snuggled together on the hard rock, weapons beside us. I would have preferred to sleep with mine in my hand, but I didn’t want to risk knifing Moe in our sleep.

Once again, I attempted to keep my eyes open and trained on the entrance to the cave, but I slowly drifted off.

“Juliet?”

My eyes shot open and my heart raced, but it was only Moe whispering beside me.

“Yeah?” I responded wearily, trying to keep my voice calm.

“Am I going to die?” The small, fragile girl had made an appearance again, taking place of the spunky warrior I had met a few days before. I stiffened, unsure how to respond.

“I don’t know,” I answered truthfully, “but we’ll do our best.” The last part came out as a whisper. Moe didn’t respond, but she pushed her body in closer to my side. Eventually her breathing evened out and I knew she was asleep. Despite not being able to fight sleep before, I was now wide awake. Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried to match my breathing with hers.

I woke up shivering, but thankfully able to feel every part of my body.

Pulling myself off the floor, I stuck my head out of the cave and into the morning. It was sunny, not even flurrying, but in the distance I could see the black storm clouds rolling in. A howl made my breath catch in my throat. I could see a faraway shape beginning to run up the mountain side, another, more animalistic, shape following close behind and herding the tribute up the way we had came.

Eyes wide, I turned around to see Moe staring back at me, her face fierce and bow clutched tightly at her side.

The finale had begun.


	17. seventeen

It was day twelve in the arena, and there was no doubt I was beginning to feel the effects on my body. I was sore, not only from being curled up on the hard ground of the cave the previous night, but because I had experienced and survived every single thing the Gamemakers had thrown my way. The snow from the day before had completely stopped, I could see the sunshine peeking through the entrance to our cave. A paradox – a beautiful beginning to the day that would yield a cruel, terrible event.

My fingers twitched, brushing over the few remaining knives strapped to my waist. Moe crouched beside me, ready to spring out of our hiding place when I said the word. I wanted to delay my almost certain death a little bit longer, but I knew it would be too dangerous to wait a few more moments.

“Take this.” I shoved one of my knives in Moe’s hands, hoping that it would help her in a close fight more than her bow and arrow would. She looked down at it unsure, but I saw her tug it through her belt look out of the corner of my eye.

The mutt was gaining on the tribute, who was stumbling and tripping up the snow covered slope. The two were quickly closing the distance to Moe and I, and I knew that it was time to run. I had a brief moment of hope that maybe the mutt would pass by, but if this was the finale, there was no option to hide.

“Now!” I wheezed out to Moe, my breath suddenly feeling stuck in my throat. We lunged out into the open, having no time to adjust to the sun before we took off, heading further up the mountain. My feet slipped in the frozen snow, but I eventually found my footing and began to half climb, half run up the slope.

Moe’s small frame scrambled up ahead of me. The mountain seemed even steeper than it did yesterday, but my adrenaline and the feeling of blood pounding in my ears spurred me on harder than before. I squeezed my eyes shut for a split moment as I attempted to stop myself from looking behind me.

“Come on, Juliet!” Moe’s voice came from ahead of me. I opened my eyes as the world suddenly got darker. The sun was covered by the incoming storm clouds, foreshadowing the event that was about to take place. They were setting the scene for the finale. We _had_ to get to the top before the storm rolled in, or there was no way one of us would be leaving the arena alive.

My limbs burned, but in a few minutes the slope began to even out a little more until it became a flat expansive of snow with a steep drop off surrounding most of it, except for the way we came.

Looking out of the edge, I could see the forest stretching below me. Although it seemed tiny from here, I could even see the cornucopia perched on the edge of the cliff we climbed on the first day. The painful memories began to float up into my consciousness and I struggled to push down the faces that haunted my past: Aida, Layla, Hank, Laurette, _Luke_.

A gasp came from the tiny blonde beside me as we both realized that we weren’t alone. The hulking figure from District Seven, Johnny, stood before us, glaring menacingly toward us as the first flurry of snow began to fall. Blinking away snowflakes from my eyelashes, but gaze traveled from his cruel face to his massive hands clutching a gleaming, silver axe.

The same hands that had twisted the neck of his young district partner almost two weeks ago.

Behind us, the District One tribute stepped forward as the snow began to fall harder, brandishing a short sword. His glare was harsh, but much more uncertain than the animalistic gleam in Johnny’s eye.

The snow fell heavier, but the four of us remained silent. I pictured all of Panem leaning in, on the edge of their seats as they watched what was surely the final battle of the 73rd Hunger Games.

In the Capital, citizens dressed in outlandish garb most likely were shaking in excitement to see if they placed their bets correctly or if their favorite tribute prevailed. Back in the Districts it was sure to be a much more somber scene as families and friends of the remaining and lost tributes held their breath.

There was the Cliff, the District One traitor who had murdered the rest of the career pack in cold blood-not because he was strong, but because on the inside he was just a scared kid like the rest of us who took the cheap way out in an attempt to survive. There was Johnny, the brute from District Ten who was no doubt a favorite in the capital but the least respected among the districts for his unnecessary murder of his district partner.

There was Moe, the blonde firecracker who made up for what she lacked in height with a determined spirit and wisdom that excelled beyond a normal thirteen-year-old’s mind.

Then there was me, the previously bright and optimistic girl from District Nine who had finally had her eyes open to the cruelty of the world. I wasn’t anyone special -I just did what I needed to do in order survive and get home to my family, but it would haunt me for the rest of my life, whether it ended now or outside of the arena.

We stood in a triangle, all of us steeling our resolved and getting ready to accept whatever fate awaited us. Moe readied her bow, notching an arrow and pointing it toward her first target. She let the arrow fly.

The arrow set the rest in motion. Johnny snarled as the arrow whizzed past his arm, narrowly avoiding sinking into his meaty bicep. He lunged toward my ally, but she was too quick.

I was distracted from their fight as I was knocked to the ground. The thick snow cushioned my blow, but only made it harder for me to fight the District One male who lay heavy on top of me, sword in hand. Using all my strength, I rolled over and pushed him off of me, but I was unable to create enough distance between myself and him to accurately throw one of my knives.

Realizing that I would not be escaping hand to hand combat anytime soon, I resorted to kicking and scratching at his face in an attempt to knock his weapon away. I brought my knee up to his stomach, loosening his tight grip on my wrist, leaving an opening for me to bring my palm up under his nose and push. _Hard_.

Cliff cried out in pain and gripped his nose. I kicked his sword away in panic, but it didn’t go very far. I hoped that the falling snow would be enough to keep him from finding it for the time being. I scrambled backward, still on the ground. My hands shook as I attempted to pull a knife on my belt and send it flying toward him.

My accuracy was way off, but I it distracted him long enough for me to glimpse back at Moe and Johnny. She was lying in the snow, looking up at her attacker with a pained expression.

“No!” I shouted furiously, charging at Johnny before I had even stopped to think. In my blind rage I had managed to sink a knife into his bicep, but it barely seemed to faze him. He tackled me to the ground in a similar fashion to the way Cliff had done only moments before, but this time the sinking feeling in my gut told me that I wouldn’t survive this.

I twisted violently in an attempt to escape his grip, but even with his new arm injury he was much too strong. Johnny pulled my knife harshly out of his arm, ignoring the steady stream of crimson blood that stained the snow around us. He held it above his head, ready to bring the tip down on my heart.

I always heard people say that they saw their life pass before their eyes in a moment of near death. Luke never liked to talk about his time in the arena, but he once told me that when he thought it was the end for him, all he felt was peace and a sense of acceptance.

This was nothing like that.

My mind was jumbled and my body continued to struggle, but I could only think of one thing: _I didn’t want to die_.

I didn’t _want_ to die here. I didn’t _want_ to be just another tribute sent home in a casket, body brutally mangled by death. I wanted to live the rest of my life, even if I was plagued by the images of the arena. I wanted to see my family again, and see Luke again, even if it meant the death of 23 other people who were no less innocent than I was.

But what I wanted didn’t matter.


	18. eighteen

My eyes squeezed shut as I waited for the final blow, but it never came. Moe had grabbed Johnny’s arm before he was able to bring the knife down on my chest. His had snapped to the side in a fit of rage and he swung his elbow back, delivering a nasty blow to Moe’s cheek. Her little body flew backward, knocked off her feet by the tribute twice her size. With his attention on my ally, I quickly rolled out from underneath him, struggling to get to my feet.

My head was still throbbing from my run in with Atlas, and I knew I had a horrible concussion. For the past few days, the cold and adrenaline had numbed my body, but I was finally starting to feel the nasty effects of the gash in my head. Between the snow and my concussion, I was seeing double, but a few blinks quickly brought the world into focus.

I took in the scene in front of me within a few seconds. District One was off to the side, clawing frantically at the snow, probably searching for his sword. Moe was on all fours, looking down at the ground with her hands deep in the snow. Johnny was stalking toward her, a sly grin on his face as he twirled my knife in one of his hands, his axe in the other as if he was contemplating which weapon to bury into her back.

I was frozen, my brain still reeling from my near death a few moments ago. Once again, the small thirteen-year old had risked her life to save mine. But this was the final battle. Moe could have easily let Johnny kill me so she didn’t have to do it herself. I knew she would kill me if it came down to the two of us. But for some reason, she attacked Johnny so the knife wouldn’t go through my heart. 

That thought spurred me into action again, ready to throw myself on the District Seven male so that Moe wouldn’t get a knife in her back. But before I could close the distance, Moe suddenly whipped around, an arrow strung tight in her bow. Before Johnny had a chance to react, she sent the arrow flying, meet its mark in the brute’s neck. His eyes bulged, shocked, before he fell limply to the ground. Blood covered the capital-made snow, looking even darker against the pure white ground. I stumbled, stopping so suddenly that my feet got caught in the thick snow. 

Moe was kneeling, but her bow rested at her side. She looked solemn, but I couldn’t find a single trace of regret in her eyes. I heard a cannon go off, and we both jerked out of our stupors. I suddenly remembered the tribute from District One who had been looking for his lost sword in the snow. As if on cue, Moe and I both swiveled our heads in his direction. The small blonde girl tried to get up, but before she could get to her feet, Cliff had tackled her to the ground, the two of them rolling dangerously close to the edge of the mountain. 

“No!” I screamed, lunging forward, ignoring my aching and protesting muscles. Cliff pushed Moe off his body when she had rolled on top, sending her small frame, even smaller than usual from the lack of food in the arena, sliding quickly toward the side, the thick snow doing nothing to slow her down. I shouted something incomprehensible again as I saw the bottom half of her body go over the edge of the cliff.   
Wide eyed, she clawed at the snow, attempting to grab onto something to pull herself back up, but the snow was too slick for her to get a good hold. I rushed forward, but with a sickening feeling in my gut, I knew I wouldn’t make it time. Cliff watched on, impassive, as Moe’s head sank below the edge and disappeared from our view. The last I saw was the tips of her fingers slipping over the side before my vision turned red with rage and I raced toward the remaining tribute.

I screamed almost animalistic as I tackled him, not even caring as we fell together in the bloody snow. I clawed at his face with my nails, taking pleasure in the blood that welled up from the tiny scratches. All the frustration, fear, and anxiety that had filled me up during my time in the arena was coming out and I couldn’t control it. I continued to punch and claw, but eventually Cliff caught himself and grabbed my arms, holding them still and easily overpowering me. He forced me onto my back as I continued to screech, effectively shutting me up with a punch to the jaw.

The force caused my head to snap backwards, making my skull throb and my vision go blurry again. His hands found their way around my neck, beginning to squeeze the air out of my body. I choked and clawed at his hands, panicking when I realized I couldn’t get air in my lungs.

Using all the strength I had left, I threw up my arms and used my body weight to maneuver Cliff off my body and onto the snow beside me. It was a move I had used many times before when wrestling with Luke, except Cliff was much heavier and I was much weaker than usual. He fell beside me, not as far as I hoped, but far enough that I was able to quickly scramble to my feet. I could see the drop off behind him, and all I needed was a well-placed punch or kick to send him over the edge. Cliff began to stand, his arena clothing wet from the blood covered snow near Johnny’s body.

Moe’s face flashed in my mind, and I knew there was only one way for me to win. Hand to hand combat wasn’t my strength, especially against a trained tribute who was almost twice my size. I needed to get as close to the edge as possible. The thought sickened me, reminding me of how Luke’s own games had ended with the District One female falling over the side of a cliff. But my only other option would be to find a weapon, which were all long lost as the snow fell harder and thicker.

I dove toward him, ready to push him backwards again, but the glint of metal in his hand made me hesitate. The hesitation cost me, and before I could pull away, he grabbed me with one arm and pulled me toward him, bringing his other arm around from behind his back. I felt a sharp pain in my abdomen and looked down to see my own knife sticking out from my stomach. I stared down in surprise, realizing that he must have found the knife in the snow near Johnny’s body. The pain began to register and I stumbled, my hands clutching at the new wound.

Cliff staggered backward and away from me, a victorious smirk on his face. His expression flooded me with anger and I took another pained step toward him, watching as he once again stepped back to watch me suffer. He was so close to the edge, and by the triumphant look on his face, he was too busy gloating to notice. With the last of my strength, I fell forward into the snow, bringing my leg around to swipe his feet out from underneath him. It was clearly the last thing he had expected, and his mouth formed a perfect ‘o’ as he stumbled backward, attempting to regain his footing. He must have misjudged how close we were to the side, and I watched as he stepped until his heel met the edge of the mountain cliff. His arms flailed almost comically as he went too far over the edge, but I was so dizzy I couldn’t tell if I was seeing correctly. 

I fell from my knees down onto the snow, looking up at the gray sky and the falling snow. My face was numb, as was almost every part of my body, but the burning fire in my stomach was definitely there. The snow was so high around me that it almost felt like a warm little cave, shielding me from reality. The wind was so loud and the snow in my ears muffled everything that I couldn’t tell if a canon had gone off or not. 

Was I the victor? I tried to think back to the last twenty minutes, but everything was fuzzy. Had I heard a canon gone off for Moe? Had I heard one for Cliff? Even if I was the last tribute standing, I wouldn’t be for long. The thought of a victorless Hunger Games made me laugh out loud. I probably looked crazy. But it certainly wasn’t possible to come out of the arena completely sane.

My vision started to blur, and I didn’t have any energy left to resist it. The fight had gone out of me the minute I hit the snow, which began to seem comfier by the second. This wouldn’t be a horrible way to die. I didn’t even feel cold – probably a result of the pain and hypothermia. I snuggled deeper into the ground, feeling resigned. An image of Luke, distraught as he watched me bleed out, appeared in my mind, and I frowned. Why was he upset? Didn’t he realize how nice it finally was to just lay here and give up?

I could have sworn I saw the black shape of a hovercraft against the gray sky, but the black creeping into my vision and the fiery pain took over before I could register anything else.


	19. nineteen

I looked at myself in the mirror, the long dress and high heels making me look tall and elegant. The shimmery gold gown was a more complex version of the simple dress I wore for my interview. It hugged my every curve, sparkling and catching the light every time I shifted. There was a long slit up the side, much higher than I would have liked, and the neckline plunged lower than any other dresses I had ever worn. Subconsciously, I attempted to tug it higher, but the dress was so tight nothing budged. 

My make-up was dark, making me look twenty-five instead of almost eighteen. I knew what kind of look my stylist was going for. The Capitol wanted me look as appealing as possible. There wasn’t anything special about me as a victor – my looks were the only thing marketable about me. I internally cringed, knowing that this was the start of the rest of my life as another one of the Capitol’s pawns.

My finger lightly traced the thin, faded scar that spanned from the side of my neck and down across my collar bone. When I was finally let out of the hospital, my injuries were almost completely gone except for a few that would take a little more time to heal. The scars were fading, but the memories never would. My body shivered at my own touch, a physical reaction to the memory of Atlas, but my mind felt numb. 

I turned away from the mirror and toward Saffra. She had visited me to explain that she would be my stylist for the rest of the time in the Capitol. It certainly wasn’t a disappointment to me, as my previous stylist Nimmo had not been my favorite person, but I wondered what had happened to him. I assumed that Luke had pulled some strings to get me the same stylist that he had for his games.

“It’s beautiful, Saffra, thank you.” I gave her a gracious smile, knowing that she was doing her best to make my time as a Victor as easy as possible. She nodded in return, reaching over to adjust some of the long, dark waves that fell over my shoulders.

“When will I be able to see Luke?” I asked, trying to hide the eagerness from my voice. The past few days when I was confined to the hospital bed, the only faces I had seen were those of unfamiliar doctors and Capitolites. Saffra was the only other person I had seen so far, but I knew tonight that would change. I had been lonely and terrified ever since I woke outside the arena, and all I wanted a familiar face. I would even take Barrick at this point. 

The older woman averted her eyes, busying herself with adjusting the bottom of my dress. “He had business to attend to, but he’ll be at the Victory Banquet. you’ll be able to talk to him later tonight.” 

My stomach felt queasy and I wondered what ‘business’ he had to attend to. I knew that the Capitol was always whisking him away, but I never knew exactly what he was doing. All I wanted was to see my best friend again. I hoped that nothing else had happened; I didn’t understand why he hadn’t come to see me as soon as I got out of the arena. I wondered if President Snow had found out that Luke and I were friends before the games. Briefly, I sorted through my less agonizing memories from the arena, wondering if I had given anything away. I couldn’t think of anything, but the President had his ways of finding out even the most personal things. Now that I was a Victor, it didn’t see how it would matter if it was known that Luke and I knew each other before I was reaped, but something was telling me that it would only be used against us.

Before I could ask any more questions, I was deemed ready by Saffra, and an Avox came to whisk me away to where the citizens of Panem were waiting for me. The room I was getting ready in was connected to the stage, so I only had to go a short way before I was waiting behind the curtains. It was the same place I had waited in before the tribute interviews. Without the other twenty-four tributes, the space seemed huge, empty, and lonely. I could hear the faint roar of the crowd, and I felt frozen in my place as the faces of the dead tributes appeared in front of me. I could almost picture Hank and Laurette standing near me, whispering to each other before they were sent on stage. 

The sound of my name jarred me slightly from my day dream, but my ears were still ringing and my body felt numb. Big arms wrapped around me and I relaxed slightly when I recognized them as Luke’s. Instead of my face being buried in his chest like it normally was when we hugged, the tall shoes I was wearing brought my chin up to his collar. I tucked my face into the crook of his neck, breathing deeply and attempting to uncloud my brain. My legs were trembling, and I knew that it was obvious that I was shaking. 

“I’m sorry, I tried -” Before he had the chance to finish, I was pulled harshly away and ushered onto the stage.

The lights nearly blinded me and my legs were wobbly, but I soon remembered the hours of practice I had walking in heels and caught myself. I smiled and waved as I strode toward the center of the stage, where two giant chairs and a massive screen was set up. The crowd roared, and I was able to make out Luke taking his seat in the front row next to Barrick and Hilda. The latter was smiling so wide it took up her whole face as she clapped excitedly for me. Barrick, looking surprisingly sober, clapped along as well, except his grimace of a smile was much more forced.

“Welcome, Juliet Breyer, Victor of the Seventy-Third Hunger Games!” The audience clapped even louder, if that was possible. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see myself being projected on screens around the theater. It was amazing how healthy I looked- not like someone who had been stabbed and starved less than a week ago. I waved one more time before taking my seat in the chair across from Caesar Flickerman. He smiled wide and took my hand, kissing the back of it before taking his seat.

We exchanged a few pleasant remarks back and forth before the lights dimmed drastically and the Capital seal appeared on the screen. I tucked my trembling hands under my legs, hoping to hide them from the audience. Surely, my reaction to the play back of my games would be broadcasted all over. I wish I had someone beside me – even Barrick or Hilda would do – but unfortunately, I was forced to face this alone. The loneliness I felt on the stage was even more present and suffocating than when I was by myself in the arena. From my position on stage I would have to turn my neck in order to see my mentors and my escort, and it took everything in me to keep my gaze on the screen.

They showed the Reapings first. I was surprised at how impassive I looked as I took my place on stage. Although much paler than normal, I seemed to hold it together relatively well, besides the glint of fear in my wide eyes. They showed brief glimpses of a few other Reapings, including my allies and district partner. A big chunk of time was spent on the Chariot rides, my training score, and my interview. The filmmakers made me seem as if I was one of the strongest contenders from the very beginning, although I knew from personal experience that I was pretty much written off as a Bloodbath tribute until I made my first kill in the arena. I was surprised at how much time was spent on my allies, as well as Atlas. 

Then the Bloodbath began. A lot of emphasis was placed on how quickly I scaled the rock wall. I watched as I my foot slipped, causing me to bash me knee against the rocks and receive my first injury of the games. I looked down at my leg through the slit in my dress, expecting to see bruises and scars, but my knee was perfectly smooth and tanned. 

On screen, my fight with Aida from District Two was being broadcasted. It was funny how quickly I seemed to gain the upper hand on screen, because in the moment, it had seemed like an eternity. They briefly skimmed over the Bloodbath deaths and moved onto the second day in the arena. 

As much as I wanted to squeeze my eyes shut and block out the memory of my first kill, I had to force myself to keep my face impassive. I watched the exchange between me and the redhead from District One. The fight was quick, and I was surprised at how cold my face looked as I sent my knife sailing through the air and into her ribcage. My break down after that was skipped over, which I was thankful for. I didn’t need to be reminded of that, nor did the Capitol need to remember my weakest moments.

The game recaps mainly followed my time in the arena, but they also showed glimpses of Moe. Her time in the arena was no easier than mine, and I watched as she was chased by mutts similar to the ones that attacked me, Laurette, and Hank. Her skills with the bow and arrow were even better than I thought, and I finally saw exactly how she received her nine in training.

Laurette and Hank’s relationship was briefly touched upon, and I was beginning to feel sick to my stomach. Watching their deaths on screen forced me to relieve the guilt I felt and I didn’t even bother trying to hide it.

It wasn’t until the jabber jay incident that I realized something that made my blood run cold. On the screen, I was curled up in a ball, listening to the mimicked yells of Kit and Luke. In the moment, I hadn’t thought about it, but watching it back made me realize that the Gamemakers knew that Luke’s voice would have some sort of effect on me. I wanted so badly to turn my head and look at him to see if he understood the implications of what that meant.

I didn’t have time to dwell on this fact because Essie’s death was being shown on screen. I watched as Aida stabbed the District Four female in the middle of an argument, as well as the fight that broke out afterward. They skipped to the next day where I was in the tree, scouting out the Cornucopia with my night vision goggles. Cliff got a lot of screen time as he killed the rest of the Career Pack in their sleep, then ran off when he saw me. 

Somehow, the film was twisted to make it seem as if I had a lot more involvement in the situation rather than being an observer. When the seventh day in the arena began, I realized that I was about to watch myself come close to death after my run in with Atlas.

Silently, I cursed my stupidity as tribute-me stomped throughout the woods, stopping to check my pack while completely oblivious to my surroundings. It was hard to watch as Atlas grabbed me from behind. My body looked like a ragdoll in his arms. When the back of my head smashed into the tree, I winced. My hand flew up to the back of my head, but all I felt was silky hair.

The camera was close to the action, showing every detail of the fight. The memories of the events were so fuzzy, that I couldn’t even believe the girl on the screen was me. It was like watching someone else’s Hunger Games. 

Atlas’ handsome face looked cruel as he sneered at me, throwing harsh words in my face. My eyes looked glassy and unfocused, my head flopping to the side that made it obvious I was close to unconsciousness. Unable to tear my gaze away, I bit my lip as Atlas referenced Luke as my ‘boyfriend’. I could almost feel his gaze on the back of my head and I hoped that Atlas came across as psychotic to the audience, rather than referring to an actual relationship between my mentor and I. 

Each cut he made on my body made me tense up. Right as I was about to lose consciousness, the microphones in the arena clearly picked up my voice as I called out for Luke. Unable to help myself, I turned my head to look back at where my mentors were sitting. When I made eye contact with Luke he quickly looked away, a weird look on his face that I couldn’t interpret. Barrick and Hilda were both looking at him with a similar expression, and I turned back to the screen, my face flushed. I doubted the audience was even looking at this exchange, too busy gasping at the events occurring on screen as if they hadn’t just watched this live last week.

The rest of the viewing seemed to drag on. Watching Moe alive and fighting tore me up inside and I just wanted this to be over. The finale was the worst part, and I watched myself go psychotic when Moe fell over the edge. The filmmakers made the finale seem very dramatic, but with the falling snow and the deaths of the strongest tributes, it probably wasn’t a difficult task. The audience gasped as Cliff stabbed me in the stomach, a move that I was still shocked by. His arrogance cost him in the end when I delivered one final kicked to send him over the edge. The film ended with me lying in the snow as I was announced as the victor of the Seventy-Third Hunger Games.

The audience began to applaud, the whistles and shouts deafening. I forced a smile but I was positive that I looked the same as every victor did after watching the worst moments of his or her life play out on screen. 

The stage lights came on full force, making me blink like crazy to adjust my vision. I stood as President Snow took the stage with a golden crown, specifically sized for my head. The audience applauded even louder, if possible, when he placed the crown on my head. Snow flashed me a snake-like smile, his face so close that I could feel his breath. Up close, I was surprised at how hard and cruel his eye actually were, and I was relieved when he finally moved away from me. I expected to see some trace of humanity in his gaze, but it seemed he had none left.

Every part of my body ached to be off the stage and back into my temporary apartment with Luke, but I still had to get through the Victory Banquet.


	20. twenty

I was whisked off stage and into a limo which took me to the President’s mansion. There, hundreds of high class Capitolites and sponsors milled about around gigantic tables of food, which I hardly had an appetite for. The moment of peace I had in the limo was quickly gone, and I was forced to plaster a wide smile on my face and interact with my ‘biggest fans’. I had yet to catch a glimpse of Luke or Barrick, but I managed to share a quick hug with Hilda before I was whisked away by another Capitolite. She hadn’t been my favorite person to deal with as a tribute, but by the way she trembled in my arms I could tell that she did care for me.

Music began to start up, causing everyone around me to cheer. Men swarmed me, asking to dance, and I politely accepted the nearest hand. It was an older gentleman with purple hair and bright blue eyes, looking at me with an awestruck smile. I only danced with him for a moment before I was twirled into the arms of another man. The process continued for what seemed like hours. The way I was looked at made my skin crawl, and for the hundredth time I wished I was wearing a less revealing dress. I felt like the President’s show pony; an object put on display.

I was twirled again, this time falling into the arms of someone slightly familiar.

“Hello, Juliet. Our newest Victor.” Finnick Odair grinned down at me, his sea-green eyes turning sad as he took in my flushed appearance. I looked up curiously, studying his handsome face. He was perfect, but I surprised myself by realizing I much preferred Luke’s boyish features.

“Hi, Finnick. It’s nice to finally meet you.” I stated politely, placing my hands on his shoulders as we began to dance in time to the music.

“Likewise. I’ve heard a lot about you.” His eyes lost their sad gaze and a twinkle appeared. “I’m a friend of Luke’s.”

I instantly relaxed, allowing him to twirl me in a circle. I hadn’t previously thought about the fact that Luke would know these people that seemed so famous and untouchable, but I supposed that we were both one of them now. I had always thought that Finnick was arrogant and self-centered, but I could tell by the slightly guarded look in his eyes that his act wasn’t so different than Luke’s. Finnick had won his games eight years ago, but he was only a few years older than Luke and I, and it made sense that Capitol’s two favorite men had become friends. Although Luke hadn’t quite replaced their beloved Finnick Odair, he was just as handsome and had quickly won their hearts. Luke seemed more aloof now than he ever had before but I was glad he had at least one person he could relate to here in the Capitol.

“Have you seen him?” I questioned, eager to see him again. Finnick turned his head to the side and I followed his gaze, watching as Luke nodded along politely to the large group of females that surrounded him. He had a smirk on his face as he spoke to them, but I could see him glancing at Finnick and I out of the corner of his eyes.

Finnick leaned forward, tilting his head so he could speak lowly in my ear. I nearly shuddered as I was brought back to the memory of Atlas’ hot breath against my neck, but Finnick’s words placated me.

“Be careful, Juliet. I’m here to help, if you need me.” He pulled away, and I caught the serious expression on his face, not one that I had ever seen on him before through the television. He glanced over my shoulder and quickly twisted his expression back into the charming grin. 

“I’m glad you made it back.” Giving me a quick wink, he pulled away, still looking over my shoulder.

I was once again transferred into another’s arms, and I realized what Finnick had been looking at. This time, I was dancing with none other than the President himself. His eyes glittered as he looked down at me. 

“You look stunning, Juliet. It seems like I’m not the only who agrees.” His eyes flickered around at the people watching me with intense gazes. “I have someone I’d like you to meet.”

He took me off to the side, his hand placed on the small of my back. It was a tiny gesture, but it felt threatening. A middle-aged man stood to the side, drink in his hand and a sly smile on his face. He was surprisingly free of the normal Capitol fashion enhancements, besides his pastel hair and smoothed, plastic looking face. 

“This is Blade Maximus, one of your biggest sponsors and supporters throughout the game as well as a close friend of mine. I promised him I would arrange a meeting between you two.” President Snow put slight emphasis on ‘close friend’, causing me to immediately put on my politest smile. Everything he said sounded like a threat, and I didn’t know what his intentions were, but I was smart enough to realize I had to play along. The President stepped away slightly, removing his hand from my lower back. I suppressed a sigh of relief.

Blade took a step forward, grabbing my hand and bringing it up to his lips. “It is a great pleasure to meet you, Miss Juliet.” I nodded politely in response, and then we were interrupted.

Luke cleared his throat, causing Blade to drop my hand and step back. He placed a hand on my back in the same spot that President Snow did, but this time it was a comforting gesture and I allowed myself to relax. His hand warmed my back and calmed the shivers that were making their way up my spine. Blade looked at Luke curiously before looking back at me.

“That really is a lovely dress.” He stated, making me mumble a quick thank you and shift uncomfortably as he looked me up and down. “I hope we can arrange to meet again soon.”

Luke took another step, placing himself closer and slightly in front of me. “If you want to talk to the stylist, Saffra is over by the refreshment table.” His voice was flat, but his expression was hard as he stared down the Capitolite. Blade stared back for a moment, a smirk on his face, but nodded and excused himself from the conversation.

“President Snow.” Luke nodded a greeting to the President, who had been watching the exchange with amusement present on his features.

“It’s lovely to have the two most recent victors here together. You must be awfully proud to have back to back victors from District Nine.” Snow smiled, but his words were dripping with insincerity. 

“It’s so fortunate that the two of you have gotten so close in such a short amount of time. What a shame it would be for all the love-struck men out there, Juliet, if you happened to be off the market. And it makes me unhappy when my people are unhappy.” He took a sip of his drink before continuing. “But I’m sure that’s not the case, right?”

“Uh, no sir.” I answered after an awkward second. Luke stayed silent beside me, but I could feel the tension and hatred radiating off of him. Why was Snow trying to market me to the people of the Capitol? The thought made me queasy and I wanted to get out of there as soon as possible.

“Oh, and I have something for you Luke.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small envelope, sealed with the symbol of the Capitol. Luke took it slowly, putting it into his suit jacket without breaking eye contact with the President.

“Enjoy your party.” President Snow winked at me before turning away to chat with a group of Capitolites nearby. Luke all but yanked me away, dragging me through the crowd, anger set on his features. We found Barrick and Hilda, both of whom seemed startled by our sudden arrival.

“We’re leaving.” He said angrily, grabbing Barrick’s arm. Barrick glanced at his watch then nodded, motioning toward a limo that was waiting by the entrance. 

“I have some business to attend to, but I’ll meet you back there later.” 

Luke nodded in response to his previous mentor, his grip on my wrist still firm as he ushered me into the limo. I was surprised I had been allowed to leave, but it must have been later than I thought. We rode in silence, and while I was a mess of emotions myself, Luke seemed ready to burst. We get to the Training Center and rode up to the ninth floor. It felt like a dream because I had never imagined that I would be back here, virtually unscathed physically - thanks to Capitol technologies - but mentally in an emotional turmoil.

The elevator door opened, and we were barely four feet into the apartment before Luke turns and punches the wall, hard enough that it splinters and caves in under the force of his fist.

I jumped back, terrified and skittish. I knew that he would never hurt me, but after spending twelve days under the constant threat of death, my body went into self-defense mode. Pushing my body against the wall, I watched as he stormed through the apartment knocking things around in his anger.

“I’m going to kill him, I swear to god.” He shouted. Besides our brief hug before the recap of the Games, this was the first time I was alone with Luke since I got out of the arena, and this was not what I was expecting. It wasn’t until a glass shattered and I let out an uncontrollable small yelp that Luke finally noticed me by the door. He turned toward me suddenly and I flinched, causing him to stop in his tracks.

“What are you talking about?” My voice came out as a low whisper, and my eyes filled up with tears at his aggression.

The anger in his features disappeared and he looked at me with worry in his eyes. The tension left my body and I lost it, crumpling to the floor and letting out a choked sob. I had been holding it in for so long that once I started, I knew I wouldn’t stop for a while. Luke came over, sitting beside me on the floor and slowly pulling me to his chest as if he was afraid I would flinch away again. I curled into him, sobbing harder. The only reason I was able to be with him again was because twenty-three other people were dead, four murdered by my own hands.

I cried for my fallen allies, I cried for those who would be in this position next year, and I cried for myself. In this position, I was more comfortable than I had been in weeks and I needed to let out all the stress and overwhelming sadness.


	21. twenty one

By the feeling of the silky, soft cushions under my hands, I was lying on the plush couch in the living room. I opened my eyes, wiping away the tears that had dried on my cheeks while I slept. The sun was beginning to rise, and a pale orangey light was filtering through the massive windows that covered the whole wall. Slowly, stretching my cramped muscles and rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I stood and walked over to the window. Looking out from the ninth floor, I could see the Capitol stretched out before me. I imagined what it would be like to have been a District Twelve tribute on the highest floor of the Training Center. The Capitol looked beautiful in the sunrise. It was hard to imagine that something so wonderful and impressive could hold such evil, but I was a living reminder of the horrors that occurred here.

The apartment was dead silent, and I assumed that the others were still in deep sleep, tired from the long night. Tip-toeing back to my room, I grabbed a change of clothes and shimmied out of my dress, trying not to dwell on the fact that the last time I was here I was preparing for my death. On my way out of the hallway, I passed Luke's room. The door was slightly ajar.

Quietly, I peeked my head through the crack. His bed was made perfectly (no doubt the work of an Avox, as Luke was never that neat) and there was no sign of my best friend. A pair of pants and a sweater was folded neatly at the end of his bed. Walking in, less cautiously now that I knew he wasn't there, I grabbed the sweater and pulled it over the tighter clothes I was given. It was huge on me, clearly meant for someone of Luke's size, but I felt safe in it. I snuggled deeper into it, wishing that it could hide me from the Capitol forever. All I wanted was to be back in District Nine again, but I still had to get through another interview today. Even when I was finally allowed to go home, I would still be whisked away again for the Victory Tour. The thought of seeing the faces of the tribute's families, especially those of whom were dead by my own hands, almost made me break down again, but I was too drained to shed anymore tears.

I made myself a cup of coffee, making a face at the bitter taste. I was still getting used to the Capitol's 'delights', but I knew coffee was definitely something I needed to develop a taste for. The front door to the apartment suddenly opened and Luke shuffled through, his hair and clothes a mess. He didn't notice me as he quietly shut the door behind him, careful not to make any noise. When he turned around and looked up, he stopped short in surprise as he saw me leaning against the counter. His hands found their way to his dark, scruffy hair and he ran his fingers through it, a nervous habit that I had picked up on. The exhaustion in his eyes was apparent. Sipping my coffee, I held his gaze. I was too empty to feel much emotion, but the slightest hint of anger brewed in my stomach at the thought of him leaving me to go spend the night elsewhere.

His face looked devastated, and I couldn't bring myself to say anything. There were so many things that I wanted to address, but he looked so helpless and confused that it reminded me of when we were little. Luke sat down on the couch and put his elbows on his knees, leaning forward letting out a loud sigh. I sat down on the other end, curling my legs up underneath me and clutching my coffee mug for comfort.

"Who were you with?" I asked quietly, biting my lip when I was met with nothing but silence.

I shifted on the couch, leaning forward and closing the space between us. "I've been waiting to see you for so long," my voice came out bitterly, "and you just… flipped out then left to hook up with some random Capitol girl."

He shook his head, whether in denial or disgust I wasn't sure. "It's not what you think, Juliet."

"Then what is it?" I questioned angrily, sick of him avoiding my questions. "You're constantly saying vague shit about having to answer to the Capitol's demands, but you never explain. You came home at sunrise looking like a hot mess. What am I supposed to think?"

"You were never supposed to think anything. You were never supposed to find out." His voice was tired, but it bordered on hysterical as he finally lifted his head and his hazel eyes mine.

"Until they made Saffra put you in that dress." His voice turned bitter and he looked down again, his face turning angry. "I could practically see the price tag on your forehead."

I thought about how vulnerable I had felt with the eyes of the Capitol on me, and how uncomfortable I had been in that dress. My heart thumped a little harder, and in the silence that followed I was sure that Luke could hear it through my chest.

"What are you talking about?" I felt sick, but as I took in his messy attire and desperate expression I had a feeling I knew what he was trying to say. "What does he make you do, Luke?" I raised my voice, feeling hysterical.

Wordlessly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the crumpled, white envelope that Snow had handed to him earlier. He held it out to me, the envelope violently quivering in his shaking hands. I took it from him slowly, opening up the folded-up paper inside. Written in tiny letters was a name, a time, and an address. I scanned it over and over again, trying to make sense of the situation.

"I never had a choice, they- they sell you, and they threaten you, and you don't have a choice Juliet." His voice broke, and there were tears gathered in his eyes. "I couldn't let them hurt my family, I couldn't let them hurt you. I- I…"

I wanted to reach forward and take him into my arms, to tell him everything would be alright, but I was frozen, still clutching the stark white paper. This is where he had been disappearing to all this time? The knowledge should have made me disgusted, but instead all I felt was sadness. For him, and for the other victors who had to go through this. The Capitol stripped us of everything, and now, even our dignity. Knowing he had to go through this was worse than watching him be hunted in the arena.

He wiped harshly at his eyes, scrunching his mouth up tightly to control his emotions. He used to do that all the time when he was upset, but I hadn't seen his tell since he returned from the Games and was an expert at keeping a stony expression. My stomach flipped as I recognized that Luke hadn't changed after all, he just hid himself deep underneath his victor persona. He had fooled me, and maybe even fooled himself, but I was finally peeling back the layers.

"It happens to Finnick too, and I'm sure others, but it's obviously not something people want to talk about. The only reason I didn't deny Snow's requests was because of Finnick. He came to visit me after I won. He..." Luke swallowed roughly, breathing in deeply before continuing, "he told me what happened to Johanna when she refused. He warned me."

"What happened?" My voice came out as barely a whisper, but the apartment was so quiet I knew he heard my question. The sun was rising higher, filling the apartment living space with a beautiful, warm orange light. Luke looked at me, his cheeks red and eyes shining.

"They killed her whole family. She has no one left. I still do." He shook his head, and we lapsed into silence again.

I faced all of this tragedy to stay alive, and this was the life I would be condemned to as a Victor? All hopes of quietly slipping into the background and out of the eyes of the Capitol were lost as soon as I put on that dress, presenting myself as desirable to the Capitol. Unfortunately, there wasn't any other option. Even if I had known, what could I have done? Unlike in the arena, there were others who would be hurt by my actions, including the boy in front of me.

Suddenly, Finnick's offer to help made sense. He would do his best to help me, just like he helped Luke, but it wasn't enough to protect the boy in front of me from the Capitol. It wouldn't be enough to protect me either.

"What's it like?" I couldn't bear to look at his face, so I looked down at my empty coffee mug, tracing the rim with a trembling finger.

After a minute or so went by, he finally responded, his voice scratchy. "I'm not having this conversation, Juliet." I missed when he called me Jules, but I wasn't upset. We had both grown up so much in the last year that it seemed like a long-lost dream to be back to our old lives in District Nine.

"We both know I'm going to find out sooner or later." My voice cracked and I clutch the mug tight until my knuckles turned white, trying to keep my hands from shaking.

He gently took the cup from my grip, placing it on the table in front of us. He took my shaking hands in his, but he kept his gaze trained down on my fingers. "I'm not going to let that happen, I swear. They won't touch you." He stated this defiantly, but I knew he wouldn't be able to protect me forever.

"It's my fault you're here." He stated suddenly, as if he had been waiting to get it off his chest for a while.

I looked up in surprised, and his grip tightened on my fingers when I tried to pull away.

"I didn't know it at first. Not until you were in the arena. The jabber jays." His jaw twitched and he still refused to look up at me. "There was an… appointment … that I missed. I was so relieved when nothing happened to my family, that I didn't even think of any other consequences. Then a few months later, you were reaped, and I didn't make the connection."

I shook my head roughly. "It's not your fault-"

"It is, Juliet! It's all my fault. Everything. I tried so hard to ignore you, so they would leave you alone, but look what happened." Luke raised his voice shaking my hands to emphasize his points. He still wasn't talking loudly, but it seemed to echo in the empty apartment.

"It's not." I said firmly. Forcing him to meet my gaze. We both knew whose fault this really was.

"I don't want this life." I whispered sadly, causing Luke to grip my hand even tighter. Next year, Luke and I would be mentoring as the most recent Victors from Nine. I didn't know that my first Games would be horrible. No matter what my fate was as a Victor, there was no doubt that I would be forced to watch my tributes die year after year. They wouldn't let Nine win again for a long time.

"None of us do. But we all do what it takes to survive. We don't have a choice." Although his voice wasn't harsh, his words were, and I knew he was right. No matter how hard it was to be a slave to the Capitol, we were alive. But was surviving really enough? I didn't want to just survive – I wanted to live. And this wasn't much of a life. It didn't matter though, because I was here now and I couldn't take my actions back even if I wanted to.

Luke continued to stare at me with determination in his eyes. "I promise you, I will keep you safe. I'll find a way. We're in this together." I nodded, but I didn't have the words to respond.

The morning light was now illuminating his face, light up his handsome features and making his hazel eyes shine green. I reached a hand up, brushing away the thick hair that had fallen across his forehead before trailing my finger down to his lips to smooth out the deep frown that hadn't ever really disappeared since his Games. His eyes flickered down and I lunged forward, closing the gap and pressing my lips against his. Luke kissed me back for a split second before pulling away, regret clear on his features.

"Please, Luke. I need- I don't want-" Tears welled up in my eyes as I tried to explain my feelings. He said we were in this together. I wanted to be with him, not some random Capitol man. He was my best friend, but he was also so much more.

"I-I can't." He stuttered, shifting his body away from mine, leaving me suddenly feeling cold. "It just makes everything so much harder."

My eyes stinging, I turned my face away so he couldn't see the tears slipping down my cheeks. He was the one who had kissed me before the arena. I understood why he pulled away then, as there was a high probability I wasn't coming back alive, but what was the problem now? If he wouldn't be with me now, then he never would. I felt crushed, his rejection settling as a heavy weight in my stomach.

Forcing myself to ignore my emotions, I stood up and placed my empty mug on the kitchen counter. "I'm going to try and get some more sleep before Hilda wakes me up for my interview." Luke didn't respond. He was still on the couch, bent over with his face in his hands, looking defeated.

I crawled into my bed, pulling the covers up to my chin. It wasn't healthy, but I began to completely shut out my emotions, positive and negative. If I were to get through any of this without, I needed to be strong and able to play the proud and admirable Victor the Capitol wanted. I went through much worse in the arena. I would be what everyone wanted me to be, except maybe Luke, but it didn't really matter anymore what he thought. I was the only one who could protect myself. Not Barrick, not Finnick, not Luke. With this in mind, I shut my eyes, feeling a strange sense of peace as I drifted off.


	22. Chapter 22

Hilda woke me aggressively, complaining that we were already off to a late start. I glanced at the clock, seeing that it was only ten and that my final interview wasn’t until two. Internally groaning, I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed. I knew I would be with my Prep Team for a while, so I took my time in the shower. It was probably the only time I would have to myself today.

After eating a quick breakfast, the next couple hours were spent being pulled and prodded at. Saffra came in much later, introducing me to a short, deep purple dress that was much simpler than the sparkly dress I wore last night. It still had a low neckline, but thankfully it was long enough that I wouldn’t be uncomfortable sitting in it. I pulled it on carefully, making sure not to smudge the dark makeup that took hours. I wasn’t necessarily a natural beauty, but the amount of makeup caked onto my face gave me the appearance that I had aged up a few years. 3

The Victor’s interview is customarily hosted in the sitting room in the tribute’s apartment, and this year was no different. I walked confidently down the hall, already putting on the persona I would need for the Capitol. I wondered what my friends at home would think of me now- tomboy Juliet transformed into a girly, done-up pawn of the Capitol. My smile faltered for a split second, but I remembered what I had resolved to do last night. I straightened myself, holding my chin high as I strode into the room.

“Hello, Caesar.” I greeted the older man politely. He was seated on the chair opposite the couch, the cameras already in position. Everyone stood toward the back of the room, out of the camera’s sight but very much in mine. I was thankful this wasn’t an interview in front of the Capitol, but having the entire prep-team and my mentors watching me still made me nervous and reminded me that I was being broadcasted live to the whole country. 

Caesar gave me a big smile in return, standing up to give me a warm hug. Besides Hilda and Saffra, he was probably the only other Capitolite that didn’t make my skin crawl. Before I could take my seat, Luke and Barrick pulled me aside.

I was hesitant about taking advice from Barrick, but in the short time I had been a victor he had proven himself to be a better support system than he had in the beginning, so I allowed them a minute of my time. I wasn’t sure exactly what caused the change in Barrick, but I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“You need be as confident and charismatic as possible. If you’re not, then fake it. Make sure to thank your sponsors. It’s important that you have the support of the Capitol now, as it’s going to help your future tributes. You can touch on your alliances, but make sure you play up your own strengths and strategies in the arena. You need to be seen as strong and capable.” Barrick rattled off a list of advices, most of which I already knew. I figured that I was a huge underdog in the arena. I knew I got lucky, but I needed the Capitol to think that my strength is what led me to my win. As much as I wished I could be one of those victors who loses the interest of the Capitol and is able to fade into the background, I know it would make it so much harder for me to get sponsors for my tributes.

Luke nodded in agreement with Barrick. He placed a hand on my shoulder, giving me a squeeze for good luck. “You’ll do great.” 

I smiled my new ‘victor smile’, flipping my hair over my shoulder. “I know.” 

I turned around, spotting Barrick giving Luke a look of amusement out of the corner of my eye. It was easier to just pretend and put on a show for everyone, not just the Capitol. It made sense why Luke had gone to such measures to keep himself the charming, yet arrogant boy he presented himself as to the Capitol. Switching off my new persona would only make it harder to turn back on. All I needed to do was get through this interview, then I would be able to see my family again.

The couch sunk in slightly as I took my seat. I was in the exact same spot that Luke and I had sat in last night, but I tried not to let that distract me as the camera light turned on. Caesar gave me a nod, singling it was time to start. He introduced me and we exchanged some light-hearted banter, helping me to relax slightly.

“Let’s get down to business now, Juliet. What has your experience in the Capitol been like since you came out of the arena?”

I smiled softly, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. “It’s been truly wonderful. Everyone has been so supportive and I even got to meet some of my sponsors and fans. I wouldn’t be here without them, and for that, I’m truly thankful.” 

Caesar simply nodded in response, and I took that as a cue to continue. “My time in the Capitol has been amazing and I don’t want to leave, but I am excited to return to District Nine to see my parents and little sister.”

“Ah, yes, I’m sure your family will be happy to have you back, but we will miss you dearly.” He leaned forward, his eyebrows raised dramatically. “And that best friend you referred to in your interview before the Games, will you be seeing him, too? Surely you can be together now, nothing is standing in your way.”

I flushed, caught off guard by the question. I should have expected it to be brought up, but I had forgotten that I had mentioned that in my previous interview. I laughed airily, playing it off. “Of course. But Caesar, my heart belongs to the Capitol now. I’m not sure if there will be any romance for me back in District Nine.” 

Caesar must have sensed my discomfort, and he leaned back, a pleasant smile still on his face. “Maybe some lucky man from the Capitol will win your heart one day. Speaking of romance, how did you feel about the relationship between your District Ten allies, Laurette and Hank?” 

I silently thanked him for the change in subject, even though this one brought back unpleasant memories. “I’m surprised I didn’t figure it out sooner, but I knew that there was something odd going on. They were certainly good at hiding it, though.” 

His face contorted into a sad frown as he thought back to the arena. “How terrible it was for them to know their relationship was doomed. It was hard to watch, and I’m sure I wasn’t the only one who shed a few tears when Hank’s cannon went off.”

I nodded solemnly, not having to fake any of my emotions. “It was a horrible moment for me, and I hadn’t even known him that long. I can’t imagine the pain Laurette must have been going through.”

We exchanged a few more remarks about the District Ten tributes before the conversation shifted again.

“How did you feel after your battle with Layla, the District One tribute?” He questioned, careful not to explicitly mention the breakdown that happened when her cannon went off. 

I took a deep breath, refraining from opening up and telling Caesar how horrible it was. I kept my face emotionless, taking Barrick’s advice to play up my strength as a tribute.

“It was hard, Caesar, to take a life, but I did what I had to do so I could be sitting here now. In the moment, it was difficult, but I know that I proved that I was a contender in the Games. Not only to the Capitol and to my sponsors, but to myself as well.” 

My interview nodded intensely, as if I had said something very profound. We continued to talk about my strengths in the arena. Thankfully Caesar had many years of practice making tributes look good, so he was able to twist little things to make it seem as if I was the strongest tribute. It was going well until he brought up Moe and I felt a sharp pain in my stomach. My face must have betrayed me, and Caesar questioned if I was feeling okay.

“I’m fine, really, it’s just hard to think about. Moe just reminded me so much of my little sister.”

He agreed solemnly and reminded the audience of how she had saved my life when I was at the mercy of my district partner. 

I responded emotionally as the interview took a more serious turn, and I figured it was okay if my voice wavered slightly.

“It was really hard for me to watch as she fell off the side of the cliff. I went a little crazy after that, as you probably saw.”

Caesar nodded once more. “Speaking of Cliff,” he smiled at his own pun, “that was definitely a riveting final battle to watch. I’m sure I speak on behalf of the whole Capitol when I say that it was a shock when he managed to find your knife in the snow.”

I grimaced, agreeing with Caesar. “I certainly wasn’t expecting that either, but I didn’t want to give up. I wanted to avenge Moe’s death. She was too young to have made it as far as she did, only to die during the finale. I don’t know what came over me, but somehow, I found the strength to finish the fight. I’m not going to lie, I didn’t think I would make it.”

He patted my knee reassuringly. “We’re glad that you did, Juliet. You fought long and hard and you deserve to be here today. Thank you so much for your time today.”

“Thank you for having me, Caesar. I hope to be back soon.” I flashed the camera my biggest smile, hoping that I looked sincere.

The camera man straightened up, signaling to us that the interview was finished and we were off air. I was pretty sure that everyone in the room left out a collective sigh of relief. Luke nodded to me, giving me his approval.

I stand up and stretch my legs, watching as the camera equipment was quickly packed up and people began to say their goodbyes. I hugged Saffra, thanking her for taking over the job of being my stylist. I would see the prep team in a few months when the Victory Tour began, but I still said my polite goodbyes. 

We were ushered out the door onto the train, where Luke, Barrick, Hilda and I finally were able to be alone. The four of us sat in silence, finally away from the commotion of the Capitol. I looked out the window as the scenery flew by. Finally, I was able to breathe, but I still couldn’t bring myself to relax. I sat, rigid, in my Capitol-made dress, wondering if I would ever feel myself again.


	23. twenty three

**A/N: This is the final chapter of A Victor's Ally! I'm already working on the second book, and that will be up soon. If you haven't already, please comment and let me know your thoughts on this story! I love hearing what you think of the characters and it's helps improve my writing as well!**

It had been exactly three months since my final interview. Three months since I vowed to be the perfect victor and three months since I left myself behind in Capitol. The Victory Tour would begin in a week. I closed my eyes, imagining myself standing in front of a crowd, giving my thanks to the Capitol and everything they had done for me. I expected to feel sick to my stomach, to feel some sort of emotion, but I felt nothing.

The clock on my nightstand blinked 12 AM, a result of a power outage a couple weeks ago. I hadn't felt like fixing it. I never looked at the clock anymore anyway, I lived in a daze where time didn't seem to register with me. The only reason I knew the Victory Tour was in a week was because I received a letter yesterday telling me my prep team would arrive soon.

I swung my legs over the side of my bed, quickly standing upright and ignoring the black spots that clouded my vision. Slipping silently down the stairs, I pulled my hair back away from my face. In the kitchen, my parents and Kit were sitting around the breakfast table. Their voices were low, and while I couldn't hear what they were saying, the way they stopped talking when they saw me gave me some idea of what their discussion was about. They didn't say anything to me as I walked past them; the past weeks had taught them that I wouldn't respond.

I slammed the door of my new house behind me. Across the street an identical house mirrored mine, its bright white picket fence and pale grey coloring the only noticeable difference. Luke's mom stood in the garden, carefully watering her flowers. She raised a hand in greeting, looking at me with an unreadable expression. I must have been up later than usual, because I had never seen anyone else outside when I went for my morning runs. I stiffly raised my hand in response before taking off into a jog.

The sounds of my feet pounding on the pavement cleared my mind. Each step I took forced every thought and feeling out of my body and onto the street. To my right, a beautiful expanse of golden fields stretched out as far as my eye could see. A slight breeze shifted the stalks of grain, causing them to catch and shimmer in the light of the rising sun. It reminded me of my victory dress. I ran faster.

I had no idea how long I ran for, but it quickly got hotter and hotter out, causing me to turn back. By the time I circled back to my house, the sun was high in the sky and I was damp with sweat.

My body was tired, but I was void of emotion. I felt empty. I felt nothing. And I liked it.

When I entered my house, I was slightly taken aback to find Luke in my kitchen. It had been a month since I had seen him. After we had first gotten back from the Capitol, I busied myself with moving my family into our new home. Once things had quieted down, Luke tried to visit, but he grew frustrated with my lack of response. A month ago, he stopped all together, and I thought I had finally lost him. My family urged me to go see him, but I quickly shut them out too.

These people didn't belong in my life anymore. The burden of being a victor was mine to carry alone. Kit, my parents, and even Luke, would only make things more difficult for me. I learned from the best mentor, after all.

"What are you doing here?" My voice was flat, and the question came out more like a statement.

He stood up from his seat at the table, frowning at me the whole time. A small part of me wanted to reach out, to touch his face and make him stop frowning, but I didn't even recognize that part of me anymore. The empty feeling spread further through my body and a creeping numbness entered my legs.

"Your parents let me in. Juliet, I.." The sound of his voice felt like a punch to the gut, but it quickly subsided. I stood still, and kept quiet, waiting for him to say what really brought him here.

"My mom saw you. She said you looked really thin. I just wanted to see if you were okay." A couple months ago, the look of concern on his face would have made my heart flutter. Now, I was empty. Numb.

"I'm fine." I spoke emotionlessly, but I was telling the truth. In fact, I was more than fine.

I tried to walk up to my bedroom, but he stopped me at the base of the stairs. "You're not fine. I'm not blind."

Ducking under his arm, I made my way upstairs. Sitting down on my bed, I began to untie my sneakers. To my annoyance, he followed me into my room.

"I really am, Luke." I took off my socks. "Anyway, your job as a mentor is done. It's over. I won. It's no longer your job to make sure that I'm okay."

He frowned deeper, if possible. I stood up and made my way toward the bathroom. "Jules, I know what you're doing. I did the same thing when I first got out of the arena. I shut off everything, thinking that not feeling at all was better than facing what I had done in the Games."

I stood in the doorway of the bathroom, looking at him with narrowed eyes. "Don't call me that anymore, Luke. I'm not that girl anymore. Just like you're not the same either. You think that there's something 'going on with me', but really, I've just _changed_. I'm not _her_ anymore. This is just who I am now. Don't you get that?"

I stripped off my shirt, leaving me in my shorts and sports bra. "Now, unless you plan on following me into the shower, this conversation is over."

The last thing I saw before I shut the door was the look of hurt and disappointment on his face.

 _It doesn't matter._ I told myself, and the numbness blossomed across my chest and down to my toes.

We got to District Twelve in the midafternoon. I was already in my outfit for my speech – a pale yellow dress that hung slightly big on me. When I put on the dress the first time, Saffra frowned and muttered about how the measurements were slightly off. I guess Luke's mother was right, I had lost weight. But there was no time to fix anything, and before I knew it I was ushered on stage with a note card in my hand.

Barrick, Luke, Hilda, and my prep team waited backstage, each looking as if they were ready for me to break down on stage. I faced the audience with a smile plastered on my face. In front of me was a large crowd filled of thin, raggedy looking people. Large screens above the crowd displayed pictures of a girl and boy who must have been the tributes for District Twelve during my games. Underneath the screens were large pedestals. The girl's pedestal had a family of four underneath it, a couple and two young kids. The boy's section only held one person, another boy who must have been an older brother.

I didn't even recognize the faces of the tributes. I should have felt guilty. But I hadn't been the one to kill them, and I hadn't even seen them in the arena. Was I in the wrong for surviving?

My monotone voice echoed through the town square as I read from the cards as quickly as possible. When I finished, there was a small smattering of clapping from the audience, but most stared up at me with blank looks on their faces. Barrik ushered me off the stage and behind a dusty, make-shift curtain that separated me from the crowd. Everyone gave me nods of approval, but I stared ahead blankly.

The dinner wasn't much better. We ate bland food and had bland, forced conversation with the mayor and his family. Afterward, I was ushered back onto the train.

The procedure for Districts Eleven was the exact same.

District Ten was a lot harder. Before I was pushed on stage, Hilda gave me a sympathetic look. It wasn't until I was in front of the crowd that it registered that this was Hank and Laurette's district. The pictures of their solemn faces seemed to taunt me. Their eyes bore into mine, judging me for surviving and leaving them to die. I swallowed the lump that was rising in my throat and forced out my speech, thanking the Capitol and giving my apologies for the fallen tributes' families. I wish I had said something to their families, something to express how sorry I was that I survived when they didn't, but by the time I finished my speech the numbing feeling had returned.

The rest of the Districts dragged on. It became such a blur that I no longer knew which District I was in. I stopped focusing on the faces. Every time I recognized one of the tributes, the numbness subsided a bit and the hurt returned, feeling like a punch to my gut. I craved the empty feeling. In District Seven, I pretended not to notice the weeping family underneath the picture of the girl, Hadley, or that Johnny's pedestal was completely empty. I never wanted to feel again what I felt during the Games.

Seeing Moe's family in District Three was the worst. The sad smiles they sent my way almost completely tore down the shields I had up. I barely managed to get through my speech without my voice completely cracking. It only got harder after that. District Two seemed to look down on me, as if they didn't believe I was good enough to have been Victor. District One looked at me with such hatred. I had been the one to kill both of their tributes. Both of which were Careers who trained their whole life to kill _me_. Yet somehow, I had come out on top.

Before we returned to District Nine, we had one more stop - the Capitol. Hearing Hilda rave about the 'grand celebration' was almost worse than having to attend the actual thing itself.

I woke up the morning we arrived in the Capitol itching to go on a run. Instead, I was forced to sit still for hours while Saffra took new measurements of me and my prep team curled my hair to perfection. Dark makeup was applied to my face, giving me the sultry look that I always seemed to bear when I was in the Capitol.

I sat in a small apartment above the hall where the party was to take place. Saffra entered at last, something small, red, and shimmery draped over her arm. She held out the material to me, an apologetic smile on her face. I held up the dress, my nose crinkling in disgust as I saw how small it was.

"I have to wear _this_?" It was a short, strappy red dress that looked as if it wouldn't cover more than half my thigh. Saffra sighed, handing me a matching set of red heels.

"It wasn't my first choice, but the President insisted." There was a cutting edge to her voice that made it clear I wasn't to argue. She helped me change into the dress, making a short remark about how she had to adjust it to fit my new measurements. She gave me a long, side-eyed look, as if she were inspecting me. I clamped my mouth shut, just wanting to get all of this over with as soon as possible. When I was deemed ready, Saffra walked me to the top of a tall stair case where I would make my grand entrance. I flipped my hair over my shoulder, readied my smile, then descended down the stairs.

The party wasn't terrible. I didn't have to think too much, just smile and nod along to whoever was speaking to me. I was passed around on the dance floor, but I was used to it by now. My body was moving along to the motions, but my head felt as if it were in the clouds. The only thing keeping me grounded was the pain in my feet.

"Juliet, may I have a word?" I turned to see President Snow, his hand out stretched. I took it slowly, searching his cold eyes for a hint of what he wanted to speak about. I had managed to avoid him for most of the evening, but unfortunately, I couldn't hide forever. He led me to the dance floor, placing a large hand on my back and pulling me closer so we could speak uninterrupted.

"Tomorrow is your birthday, correct?"

I nodded absentmindedly. I had completely forgotten about my birthday.

"Now listen closely," His voice turned cruel, and his fingers seemed to dig into my back. "As a birthday gift to you, I'm going to give you a clear and direct warning. Some previous victors have seemed to, ah, _misinterpret_ what I've told them."

Fear coursed through me and I tried to back up, but he tightened his hold around my waist and continued to lead me around the dance floor. "Some men in the Capitol have taken an interest in you. You _will_ meet with them when you're asked, or you _will_ suffer the consequences. And not just you." He directed his gaze to across the ballroom, where Luke was chatting and laughing with a Capitolite.

The fear got stronger, but I attempted to pull my shield back up. His eyes were twinkling with cruelty, but I narrowed my eyes and held his gaze. "I'll do what you ask," I begin, fire building inside me. "But you don't get to have him anymore. I'll do _anything_ you ask me to, but you have to let him go. No more 'appointments'. Starting tonight."

Snow regarded me with detached curiosity. "Why should I do what you ask of me? If I'm not mistaken, _I'm_ the one with the power here."

I took a deep breath. "Yes, but if you don't, then I won't do what you ask. And you can throw everything you have at me to try and hurt me, but it won't matter. Watching him go through this is worse than whatever else you may have in store. And I'd bet his life on that." Besides my speeches during the Victory Tour, this was the most I've said to anyone in a long time. My throat felt dry, and I swallowed roughly, waiting for his response.

"Very well," He seemed amused. I knew that he had something else up his sleeve, but I was in no position to argue. "I'll send word for you to visit the Capitol when you are needed."

I nodded, bowing my head and looking down at my heels. "Is that all?" I muttered, wanting to get away.

He twirled me around before finally letting go of me. "That's all. Happy birthday, Juliet." The President winked at me before disappearing into the crowd. I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly cold, and left the dance floor as quickly as possible before I was spotted.

I skirted around the edge of the crowd. Hutch and Hilda were still flitting around, laughing and chatting with people I didn't recognize. Luke was nowhere to be found, and I silently prayed that Snow had kept his word. I was only stopped once or twice more before I was able to exit the ballroom. Kicking off my heels, I took the stairs two at a time to reach the apartment where I would be spending the night. I felt as if I was about to break in half.

When I opened the door, I was surprised to find Luke leaning against the couch.

"I'm sorry if I scared you, the door was unlocked." He stood up straight, clutching something in his hands. His eyes looked unusually bright, and for once he didn't look as if he was waiting for something horrible to happen.

He glanced at the clock, a small smile on his lips. "It's after midnight. Happy birthday, Jules." He held out a small gift in his palm, wrapped roughly in brightly colored paper. His eyes met mine, searching for a response from me.

The walls that I had put up for the past couple months came crumbling down. The numbness completely subsided, and all I felt was _hurt_. I reached a trembling hand out to take the package, but before I could grasp it, a sob racked my throat and my body curled in on itself. Luke caught me before I hit the floor. He wrapped his strong arms around me, trying to hold my shivering form in place.

Gently, he lowered us to the ground and pulled me closer. Tears streamed down my face, but neither of us bothered to brush them away. Everything I had bottled up inside for months came spilling out. He stroked my hair softly, his own hands trembling.

"It's okay. You'll be okay. We'll be okay." He whispered. I clung to every word, knowing that he was right. "We'll get through this together. You have me, I promise. Always."

Life as a Victor was horrible, but I would get through it. As long as I had him, I would be okay.


	24. SECOND BOOK

Hi Everyone! The second book in this series, A Victor's Secret, is now published! Go check out the first chapter!


End file.
